Heat Wave
by DarkUnderworld
Summary: Who doctors the doctor? A heat wave has blanketed the city and Donatello is feeling the affects, but is this what is making him sick, or is it something else? It is a race against the clock to figure out what is wrong with their progressively worsening genius brother, and with April and Casey out of the country, the prognosis looks bleak.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all, in light of the upcoming summer I have given into writing a plot bunny supplied by the very talented Amonraphoenix. Hope you all enjoy! a big thank you to Amonraphoenix for beta reading this chapter as well and for the lovely idea:)**

**P.S for any who are chomping at the bit for the next chapter of my fic Blindsided, rest assured, I have begun work on it, so hopefully it will be completed soon:)**

**And now...please enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Donatello** groaned in the oppressive, sticky humidity of the July heat. He brushed the sweat from his brow, restraining a wince as his head pounded uncomfortably, the headache he had been suffering for the last week reminding him of its presence. He ignored his pounding head and glanced over at his brothers who were crouched beside him. Even though night had fallen, the city had been in the merciless grip of a relentless heat wave for the past week with no end in sight.

"Leo, can we go home now?" Michelangelo whined, sprawling his body out upon the rooftop as he attempted to cool himself down. "Seriously, even the bad guys are too hot to do anything," Michelangelo grumbled.

Leonardo looked over at Michelangelo in irritation, a scowl forming across his features even as sweat began to roll down his own forehead.

"I never thought I'd say this, Leo, but for once, Mikey's right," Raphael growled from where he sat, one leg dangling casually over the side of the building, the tattered brown trench coat he always wore still draped around his shoulders even in the sweltering heat.

Leonardo's scowl deepened and closed his eyes, giving a curt nod of agreement.

"Goodbye hot, sweating city, hello nice cool sewers," Michelangelo quipped happily as he leapt up, a triumphant smile upon his face.

Donatello gave a small grin at his baby brother's antics, and stuck out his hand towards Raphael.

Raphael frowned and looked over at Donatello. "Whatchya want, Donny, cause I ain't holdin' your hand," Raphael said as he stood, his trench coat moving to conceal most of his body.

"You owe me twenty bucks, Raph," Donatello answered smugly.

Raphael glared down at Donatello, his eyes suspicious. "For what?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"You told me that Mikey would never be right...ever. I said that Mikey would eventually be right one time or another," Donatello explained patiently as he tried to focus on his words, somehow finding the task difficult.

"So?" Raphael growled, his amber eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest, the fabric of the trench coat pulling tightly over his broad shoulders.

"So, you said that it would never happened and I said it would. Long story short, you said that you would never admit to Mikey being right, and if he was and you admitted it, you would owe me twenty bucks," Donatello explained patiently as he motioned with his hand to pay up.

Raphael's eyes narrowed even further. "That was like…ten years ago!" Raphael complained.

Donatello shrugged as Michelangelo looked torn between being amused and indignant.

"He's right, Raphie," Michelangelo stated, deciding to be amused by the bet rather than offended.

"Oh, come on!" Raphael protested, holding out his hands before moving the jacket aside slightly to shove his sais into his belt.

Leonardo stood, sheathing his swords and wiping away the trail of sweat that had run down his neck. "Donny's right," Leonardo agreed. "If you made the bet, you are honour-bound to pay it, Raphael."

Raphael glared at Leonardo heatedly. "I don't need you to go spoutin' things like that, Leo," he snarled, his anger as hot as the sweltering heat around them.

"Master Splinter left me in charge-" Leonardo began, Raphael rolling his eyes in derision.

"We know, Leo, we know," Raphael growled. "Master Splinter left you in charge when he died, blah, blah, blah. I'll pay Donny the twenty bucks if you shut your beak."

Leonardo threw a glare at Raphael; Michelangelo clapped Donatello on the back. "I know who's buying pizza tonight!" he crowed with a wide grin trying to break the uncomfortable silence that descended upon them at the mention of Master Splinter's death five years ago.

Donatello looked up at Michelangelo and returned his baby brother's smile. "Okay, Mikey," Donatello agreed. "Just…no...anchovies," Donatello warned his own voice sounding oddly distant.

Michelangelo looked down at him in concern. "You okay, Donny?"

"Yeah." Donatello acknowledged as he tried to focus his swimming vision better. "Heat is just getting to me," he replied as he stood, Michelangelo stepping back and giving him a little more room to stand.

Donatello's vision suddenly went black and he felt himself falling.

* * *

**Leonardo** glared at Raphael, trying to control his temper as a flash of amethyst and olive green suddenly fell forward.

His head whipped around as he watched Michelangelo desperately make a wild grab for Donatello, who had tumbled forward and over the edge of the building. He managed to grab hold of Donatello's arm, but unfortunately the weight of Donatello's limp body pulled Michelangelo forward, and unable to grab anything to halt their sudden downward plunge, the two brothers disappeared from sight.

"Donny! Mikey!" Raphael yelled in panic, leaping forward and attempting to grab Michelangelo, but he was too late, Raphael clutched at nothing but air.

Leonardo's heart leapt into his throat as both of his brother's tumbled over the edge, vanishing from his sight.

Leonardo looked over the edge of the building Michelangelo and Donatello both lying terrifyingly still on the roof of the adjoining building two stories below.

"Donny! Mikey!" Leonardo's voice rose an octave in terror and panic, fearing the worst.

Raphael was already leaping over the edge to the rooftop two stories below and Leonardo followed only moments behind.

Leonardo landed hard, but absorbed the shock, ignored the pain that shot through his body, and rushed over to where Raphael was looking Michelangelo over for injuries.

Michelangelo was groaning a little and rubbing his head as he slowly sat up with Raphael's help. Their baby brother appeared fine, but Donatello remained horrifyingly motionless.

Leonardo knelt down next to their genius brother and quickly checked his vitals. His brother's heart beat steadily beneath his fingertips and he quickly checked for any injuries that may have occurred during their fall.

Finding none, Leonardo felt relief fill him that Donatello had at least survived the fall, though what had caused his brother to fall in the first place was a mystery.

A swift intake of breath and a hiss of pain caught Leonardo's attention and he looked over his shoulder at Raphael who was frowning with worry as Michelangelo clutched at his ankle.

Donatello let out a faint moan and his eyes fluttered open, drawing Leonardo's attention back to his other brother. Milk chocolate eyes met dark chocolate and Leonardo let the trapped breath he hadn't known he had been holding out in relief.

"Donny?" he questioned softly.

Donatello let out another groan of protest as he started to sit up. Leonardo pushed him back down with a gentle hand to his brother's plastron.

"Just lay down for a second, Donny." Leonardo softly coaxed as Donatello scowled.

"I'm fine," Donatello grumbled as he pushed away Leonardo's hand which still hovered over his plastron.

"You ain't fine, Genius. You just fell off the side of a roof," Raphael growled. "Mikey here tried to stop you and you both tumbled over."

Donatello's eyes widened with shock as he sought out Michelangelo. "Are you okay, Mikey?" Donatello asked scrambling to his hands and knees, pausing for a moment before getting to his feet with Leonardo's hand for support.

"Yeah," Mikey said getting to his feet, and then falling to one knee with a hiss of pain that turned into a soft moan.

"Stay down, Knucklehead," Raphael growled at Michelangelo as Donatello knelt down beside his younger brother, his eyes full of worry.

"I think you sprained your ankle," Donatello softly informed Michelangelo as he probed his ankle. "It'll need to be elevated and iced for a little bit and then wrapped in a tensor bandage. But you'll be fine."

Michelangelo nodded, but his worried hazel gaze instead searched Donatello's intently. "Are you sure you're okay, Donny?" Michelangelo questioned anxiously.

"I'm okay." Donatello waved off their concern as he helped Raphael pull Michelangelo to his feet. "I must have got up too quickly. I might be a little dehydrated as well," he acknowledged with an unconcerned shrug, letting Raphael support Michelangelo's weight.

"Okay, well, let's get you back to the lair, and I expect you to go straight to bed, Donny," Leonardo warned. "We can take care of Mikey and I don't want you staying up for the rest of the night working on whatever project you have going on, okay?"

Donatello sighed and reluctantly nodded his head in agreement.

"Good," Leonardo acknowledged.

"Wait...does this mean that Donny's not buying pizza?" Michelangelo asked in a small voice, his hazel eyes widening imploringly. Pain filled their baby brother's eyes only adding to the pathetic puppy-dog look he was giving Leonardo.

Raphael snorted. "It's okay, Mikey. You'll still get your pizza since I'm payin' anyway," he grumbled as Michelangelo's face lit up with joy.

Their red-masked rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I'll order the pizza and wait for it. Leo, you can take Mikey and Donny home."

Leonardo nodded his head in agreement of the plan, walking up to Michelangelo and placing Michelangelo's arm across his shoulders so he could support his baby brother's weight.

Donatello nodded as well and began to slowly make his way to street level and then below into the cool comfort of the sewers that led to their home.

Leonardo took one last look at Raphael and followed closely behind Donatello, whose gait was unsteady and wavering. Watching his genius brother's carapace with worry, a feeling of trepidation filled him.

* * *

**Donatello** stumbled home, all of his concentration fixed upon placing one foot in front of the other. His head swam uncomfortably and his stomach felt as if it was doing small side to side rolls, forcing him to try to breathe through the sudden nausea.

He swallowed uncomfortably, feeling overly hot. Even when they reached the cooler temperatures of the lair, he still felt overly warm.

Donatello could feel his oldest brother's concerned gaze upon him, following him as Donatello made his way to his bedroom, intent on resting and hopefully feeling better in the morning.

"Donny, are you sure you're okay?" his oldest brother asked with worry.

Donatello sighed. "Yeah. I may have a touch of heat exhaustion. I'm just going to go to sleep and hopefully I will feel better in the morning," he said echoing his inner thoughts as he gave his brother a goodnight wave.

"Hey, Donny!" Leonardo suddenly called out.

Donatello turned and Leonardo caught up with him, giving him a bottle of water. "Thanks," he said as he turned, walking into his room, and shutting the door shut behind him. He cracked the seal on the cap of the bottle of water and chugged back half of it before putting it on his desk.

He took a deep breath and clutched at his plastron right over his stomach; shooting pains had begun to radiate through his abdomen.

He grimaced, knowing that he should have stayed hydrated and out of the sun today. After training that morning with Leonardo, he had opted to risk a daylight run to the junkyard; figuring most of the humans would be indoors trying to stay cool.

Discovering he had been right, he had happily dug around through the junk heaps and had even found some decent replacement parts for Raphael's motorcycle, some video games for Michelangelo, and a new microwave to replace the one that Leonardo had fried yesterday morning at breakfast when he had placed a bowl of oatmeal inside with the spoon to warm it up and then walked away to go and deal with Michelangelo and Raphael who were bickering in the living room.

Donatello could acknowledge that he may have lost track of time and so he had probably been out in the sun for longer than he should have been.

He picked up the bottle of water again, took another hearty gulp before setting it back down and crawling into bed.

He closed his eyes hoping that he would feel better in the morning.

* * *

**Leonardo** stretched as he walked into the kitchen feeling drawn and tired.

Waking up this morning, he had hoped that perhaps today would be less hot than the days before, but it looked as if he was to be disappointed in this hope. The heat was becoming unbearable, even down in the sewers. He had only managed to get in half of his normal training routine before needing to quit. All he needed was to pass out from overexertion and have Raphael laughing his ass off at him for 'fainting'.

He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, downing the entire contents in a few hasty gulps. He peered inside and pulled out the box of leftover pizza from last night, kicked the fridge door closed, and put the pizza box down on the table.

Raphael strode into the kitchen at that moment, a scowl on his face as he snagged the piece of cold pizza Leonardo had been just about to grab. He glared at his younger brother and selected another slice, deciding that letting the rude action go being the best thing for both his temper and his sanity.

Raphael threw himself into his seat and took a bite of pizza. "I was just waitin' for you to faint in there," he said with a smirk as he took another bite of pizza. "How the hell were you even trainin'?"

Leonardo gave a shrug. "You should have been in there, Raph," he replied even though he knew he was wasting his breath.

Raphael snorted. "Yeah, right. I ain't passin' out in this heat. It's bad enough you made us all train yesterday. And besides, I was in the living room all morning entertainin' Mikey. As far as I'm concerned, I should get a freakin' medal."

Leonardo opened his mouth to make a withering reply when Michelangelo's plaintive voice echoed from the living room asking for a drink of water and something to eat, and not to forget the extra pillow for his foot and for some more ice and a blanket and maybe another pillow for his head.

Raphael's gaze shot to Leonardo daring him to continue with what he was about to say. Leonardo snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat.

Standing, Raphael snagged a piece of pizza for Michelangelo and walked over to the cupboard, pulling out a glass and before opening the refrigerator to get their baby brother a glass of water.

"Where the hell is Donny anyway? He loves playin' nurse," Raphael grumbled as his eyes shot in the direction of the lab.

Leonardo slowly stood. "You mean he isn't up yet?"

Raphael looked over at Leonardo, placing the pitcher of water back in the fridge. "I thought he was in his lab."

Leonardo shook his head negative. "I passed his lab on the way from the dojo, it was dark and empty." Worry prickled across his skin as he looked at the clock, realizing that Donatello had been in his room for well over twelve hours.

"I'm sure he's fine," Raphael said unconvinced of his own words, placing the glass of water on the counter and following Leonardo out of the kitchen as they dashed to Donatello's bedroom.

Leonardo lightly knocked on the door before finally turning the knob and walking in when there was no reply. His heart hammered uncomfortably in his chest as he approached his brother's bed; the room dark, hot, and muggy.

Donatello lay curled on his side the blankets pulled up to his chin as he fitfully slept.

Leonardo reached out a tentative hand and touched Donatello's forehead. It burned beneath his fingertips and Leonardo felt a spike of fear rush through him. He had noticed that Donatello had felt warmer than normal the night before, but had believed that it was only because they were all hot. But the heat radiating off of his brother's skin right now was much, much worse than it had been last night.

"Donny," Leonardo shook his brother's shoulder, trying to wake him up. Donatello's eyes fluttered open, looking at Leonardo in confusion.

"Wha-?" Donatello asked before closing his eyes again.

Leonardo looked back at Raphael. "I need a thermometer," he said as Raphael nodded, a look of worry on his face.

Raphael turned and left Donatello's room. Leonardo returned his attention back to Donatello. He unsuccessfully tried to rouse his younger genius brother, unease beginning to prickle across his skin.

Raphael returned, the thermometer clutched in his hand, Michelangelo on a pair of crutches hobbling into the room after him.

"What's wrong with Donny?" Michelangelo asked his voice full of concern.

"I don't know, Mikey, but I'm pretty sure he has a fever. I tried to wake him up, but I couldn't." Leonardo swallowed roughly and took a calming breath.

"So if Donny won't wake up, how the hell are we supposed to take his temperature?" Raphael asked with a frown that suddenly vanished. "Oh, hell no! I ain't shoving this there. You can take his temperature," Raphael threw the thermometer at Leonardo who deftly caught it.

Leonardo scowled at his red masked brother. "I can take his temperature by putting the thermometer under his armpit," he replied firmly as he lifted his Donatello's arm, placing the thermometer in his brother's armpit and lowering his arm back down.

Their normal temperatures ran a little cooler than humans, so it was with great trepidation that he watched the numbers on the thermometer continue to climb, finally stopping at just below 103 degrees.

Leonardo removed the thermometer and stared at it blankly for a moment before he quickly stood, rushing over to Donatello's desk and pulling a laptop from beneath a pile of papers.

He opened the laptop and waited for it to boot up as he glanced at Raphael whose face was filled with concern. "Donny mentioned something about heat exhaustion last night, but didn't seem overly concerned about i,." Leonardo explained.

"So what, you're gonna google it?" Raphael asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Michelangelo placed his crutches against the wall and hopped over to Donatello's bed, gently lowering himself down so that he was seated on the mattress beside Donatello. He reached out and touched Donatello's forehead, his eyes flashing to Leonardo's.

"He's really hot," Michelangelo murmured as Leonardo gave a curt nod of acknowledgement.

Leonardo began typing 'heat exhaustion' into the search engine and clicked the first result that came up. His eyes rapidly scanned the signs and symptoms that were listed.

Raphael was reading over his shoulder, a frown on his face. "Not as bad a heat stroke, blah, blah, if not treated can lead to heat stroke. Symptoms include confusion, dizziness, fainting, headache, sweating, nausea, and rapid heartbeat."

Leonardo cast a quick glance at Donatello again as Raphael spoke.

"Well, Donny definitely had the dizziness thing and the fainting, but it doesn't say anything about a fever," Raphael observed.

"Thank you, Raph, I can read," Leonardo grumbled as his eyes scanned the page again, making sure he hadn't missed anything.

"Click on heat stroke, maybe he's got that instead," Raphael said, ignoring Leonardo's words and pointing at the link on the screen.

Leonardo shot his younger brother an irritated glance, but clicked on the link anyway because he knew that Raphael was right.

The first line he read about heat stroke made his heart skip a beat in fear. Heat stroke was a medical emergency, without treatment his brother could get brain damage, his organs could be damaged, or... he could die.

"It says it mostly strikes people over 50, Donny's only 28," Raphael pointed out as if this fact eliminated heat stroke as the cause of Donatello's sudden illness.

"And athletes," Leonardo offered up softly. "Dehydration, prolonged exposure to high temperatures and physical exertion all contribute to possible heat stroke."

Raphael grunted. "Says here that symptoms are a fever over 105 degrees, nausea, seizures, rapid heartbeat, shallow breathing, confusion, loss of consciousness, coma, and hot, dry skin."

Leonardo shared a looked with Raphael. Donatello had enough of the symptoms that it was most likely heat stroke that he was suffering from. And they needed to move quickly as he read that any delay in seeking medical treatment could be fatal. This particular information didn't help his rapidly pounding, fear filled heart.

His eyes quickly scanned what they were supposed to do, besides call 911, which of course, wasn't an option for them. In fact, they couldn't even call April as both she and Casey were on a romantic vacation in Paris for two weeks.

"So what do we do?" Michelangelo asked, his voice shaky but determined.

"Make sure they are placed in a cool environment," Leonardo read aloud.

"There is no 'cool environment', this is as cool as it gets." Raphael growled.

Leonardo grimaced but had to agree with his brother. "Remove any unnecessary clothing."

Raphael glared as none of them wore clothing except for Raphael.

Leonardo continued to read. "We need to get his temperature down. We need ice."

Raphael nodded and ran to the door stopping short and turning around. "We don't have any ice. I used it all on Mikey's ankle this morning. I mean, I've put the ice packs back in the freezer, but they aren't frozen yet."

Leonardo closed his eyes and Michelangelo made a muffled squeak of terror. "Run a bath, a cold one." Leonardo ordered. "We'll get Donny in the tub an hope that it will be cold enough to lower his temperature without putting him into shock."

Raphael nodded and ran from the room. Leonardo heard the water in the bath down the hall turn on and a few moments later, Raphael ran back into Donatello's room.

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault," Michelangelo whimpered. "I didn't know that Donny was sick. I was just putting ice on my ankle because it was all sore and swollen."

"It ain't your fault, Mikey-" Raphael assured their baby brother.

"That's right, Mikey, you needed the ice," Leonardo affirmed.

"-it's Leo's fault," Raphael continued.

"What!" Leonardo yelped as his gaze shot to Raphael who seemed suddenly angry.

"You heard me, Leo, this is your fault. You knew it was hot. It's been stupid hot for the past week and you made Donny train with you. Me and Mikey told you to go stuff yourself, but Donny's too nice."

"I didn't say-" Michelangelo tried to interject but Raphael continued talking.

"So, yeah, Leo, this is your fault for being such a tight ass and always pushing us," Raphael snarled as he approached Leonardo getting into his face and hissing in his ear low enough so that Michelangelo couldn't hear. "So if anything happens to Donny, it's all your fault."

With this brutal pronouncement, Raphael turned and stalked from the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.

Leonardo swallowed, his vision spotting slightly as he looked at Donatello, lying unconscious upon his bed. Raphael was right, horrifyingly right. If Donatello received brain damage, organ failure, or...died, it _would_ be all his fault.

* * *

**dun, dun, dun...hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all! thank you so much to everyone who has decided to read this fic!**

**A giant thank you to SleepingSeeker, ShamrockClover, BubblyShell22 and Dondena for your encouraging words!**

**And also a giant thank you to Amonraphoenix for being awesome and beta reading this chapter for me, you are beyond amazing!**

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Chapter 2

**Leonardo** looked over at Raphael who had come back into the bedroom and gave a slight nod. Michelangelo moved out of the way as Raphael hefted Donatello's legs, while Leonardo gently lifted Donatello's head and upper body. They negotiated Donatello out of his room, down the hall, and to the bathroom, where a tub full of cold –or as near to it as they could get- water had been drawn.

They managed to get Donatello into the bathroom and then into the tub. Leonardo almost expected the bath water to hiss or steam to rise when his brother's fevered body hit the water. Neither happened of course, but the image had wormed its way into his head anyway.

He took a cloth and dipped it in the water, bringing it up and dragging it gently across his brother's heated forehead skin. He glanced at Donatello's impassive face, fear and worry curling heavily into his stomach. It bothered him that Donatello hadn't woken up when he had hit the chilly water, but Donatello hadn't even flinched. Raphael's voice broke through the tense silence, echoing the very thoughts that had been swirling around in his own head.

"I thought for sure dumpin' Donny in the tub woulda woke him up," Raphael growled in angry irritation.

Leonardo glanced up at Raphael about to chastise his brother, but the desperate worry that rolled around in Raphael's amber eyes stopped his words in his throat. Instead, Leonardo gave a nod of agreement and turned his attention back to Donatello.

"How long does he have to stay in there, Leo?" Michelangelo asked softly from where he was hovering just inside the door.

Leonardo glanced back at Michelangelo to reply; only he didn't actually know how long he was supposed to keep Donatello in the tub for. He had been so panicked that he hadn't read that far down the page.

"Leo, Donny's lips are turning blue!" Raphael hissed fearfully.

Leonardo's head snapped back around as he looked at Donatello's face in horror, his mind filled with terror and his body froze, unable to react.

"Move!" Raphael shouted pushing Leonardo out of the way as he plunged his arms into the frigid water, dragging Donatello's limp body from the tub.

Leonardo stood about to help Raphael who had swung Donatello up in his arms."You know what, Leo? I think you've done enough damage for today. Maybe you should just stay the hell away from him before you kill him," Raphael snarled, his molten amber gaze borrowing into his own.

Leonardo flinched at the accusation, but could not refute his brother's harsh observation.

Raphael turned and strode from the bathroom, Michelangelo hobbling out of the way of their angry brother. Leonardo looked at Michelangelo who gave him a fearful, worried, almost accusatory, look before he used his crutches and followed Raphael down the hall and into Donatello's bedroom.

Leonardo hung his head in shame; guilt burning a trail of regret through his body. He slowly made his way from the bathroom, stopping in the hallway feeling powerless and lost.

* * *

**Raphael** strode down the hallway, Donatello's freezing, limp and slight, body clutched tightly in his arms.

His mind spun. He had no idea what to do. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at Leonardo like that, but he couldn't help it. Leonardo's actions had made Donatello sick in the first place, and now Donatello was even worse.

Raphael gently placed Donatello back on his bed, covering his brother's trembling body with a light sheet. He stared at his younger brother, his heart hammering in his chest as Donatello's milk chocolate brown eyes fluttered open slightly just as Michelangelo hobbled into the room.

"Donny?" Raphael questioned gently. His genius brother's lips had lost their tinge of blue and putting his hand upon Donatello's forehead, it appeared as if his fever was lower than it had been.

Donatello didn't answer and instead closed his eyes and groaned. Raphael bit his lip as his eyes scanned his brother's face. Donatello's eyes fluttered open again, but it looked as if he was having trouble focusing.

"Leo?" Donatello's raspy voice questioned uncertainly. Raphael opened his mouth to reply in the negative, but Donatello continued to talk. "You should go look for Raph," Donatello weakly insisted.

Raphael felt his eye ridges lift in surprise and confusion at Donatello's words. Raphael heard Michelangelo limp closer to the bed, but Raphael's attention never wavered from Donatello.

"Donny-" Raphael began his voice shaking slightly.

"I know, Leo." Donatello insisted trying to sit up. Raphael gently reached out and placed a restraining hand on Donatello's shoulder. Donatello winced in pain and relaxed against his pillow, his eyes finding Raphael's but not seeming to actually see him. "You and Raph fought again, but you know what he's like when he gets angry. I'm worried that he's going to do something reckless and get hurt."

Raphael swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "I ain't gonna get hurt, Donny...Not again." Raphael insisted quietly, but Donatello didn't seem to hear him.

"You're always harder on him than the rest of us, and one day you're going to push him too far and he's not going to come back. He'll either leave o-or he'll get himself...k-killed." Donatello's raspy voice broke with emotion.

"Donny, hey, it's me, Raph. I'm here," Raphael tried again as Michelangelo hobbled beside him and sat down carefully on the end of Donatello's bed.

"There's blood everywhere." Donatello looked down at his hands in horror, his breathing suddenly becoming strained and panicked. "I can't...there's too much blood, I can't save him. I... Leo, I can't do this!" Donatello choked out in heartbreaking despair.

"Donny, calm down," Raphael gently urged as Donatello tried to sit up again.

Suddenly, Donatello clutched at his abdomen, gasping in pain as he tried to curl into himself. "Raph...he's...he's going to die!"

Raphael felt his heart slam painfully against his chest as he realized that Donatello must be experiencing some sort of waking nightmare, reliving the moment when his brothers had found him; a battered bloody mess, courtesy of Hun and the Purple Dragons. Raphael was lucky to be alive. A few more minutes and he wouldn't have been.

He and Leonardo had fought and he had stormed off, not wanting to deal with his hard assed older brother. And trying to blow off some steam, he had antagonized three Purple Dragons he found prowling around a warehouse, only there weren't just three of them, there were thirty. He had been beaten unconscious and held prisoner for a little over two weeks. He had been starved, repeatedly beaten, and tortured before Hun finally grew bored of this bloody sport.

But Raphael's death was not going to be quick or painless. Hun decided to string him up in the center of a concrete room and see how long it would take him to die from one thousand cuts. Gashes were sliced into his arms and legs, deep enough to bleed, but not deep enough to kill him too quickly. His death was intended to be painfully slow.

Raphael wasn't sure how long he hung from the rope in the center of the room; his warm life blood slowly trickling down his body to drip into the ever growing pool of dark crimson on the floor just below his dangling feet. Donatello had later informed him that he had probably hung there for nearly hours; left to die from either blood loss or shock.

Hun had then departed from the abandoned warehouse where Raphael had been held, but he had left behind a welcoming party of heavily armed Purple Dragons for Raphael's brothers -who had barely managed to escape with their own lives- and their father -who hadn't.

Donatello had somehow managed to save Raphael's life, meticulously repairing the grievous injuries that had been inflicted upon him by Hun and the Purple Dragons during his captivity, but there had been nothing he could do for their father, who had been shot, but whose injury had not been revealed until much later.

Their father had not wanted them to worry, and for them to focus upon saving Raphael's life, not concerning themselves with his. Master Splinter had no regrets about that night, but Raphael blamed himself for their father's death.

They all grieved the loss of their father, but his brothers pushed through their sorrow to help Raphael with his very long and painful recovery.

After Raphael had recovered, he had begun to wear a trench coat to cover up the horrific scars that marred his body, trying to lessen the burden of guilt his brothers had begun to carry. They blamed themselves for his condition, because they had not found him and rescued him sooner.

Not that Raphael blamed his brothers at all -he knew they had all tirelessly searched for him. But the truth was, he blamed himself more than anyone.

However, after his recovery, his fights with Leonardo had somehow become worse, more intense, violent and angrier. He wondered if Leonardo blamed him for their father's death -as he blamed himself- but he found he wasn't brave enough to ask.

Of course, he had never realized how much his actions the night he had been captured had affected his genius brother. Donatello had been worried about him that night, without even realizing that he had a right to be. And after Raphael had been found...

"You were supposed to protect him, Leo!" Donatello cried out, his shivering body wracked with chills, eyes wide and unseeing.

"Donny!" Raphael snapped, trying to blink back the tears and the feelings of grief and guilt that still had the ability to bring him to his knees.

"Mikey, where's April?" Donatello suddenly asked, his face becoming curious.

Michelangelo moved his face into the light, his eyes overly bright, his voice hoarse as he quietly answered Donatello's unexpected question. "April...April and Casey are in Paris. T-they wanted to go on a romantic holiday."

If Donatello heard Michelangelo's answer, he didn't show it, instead asking another question.

"Why is it so hot in here? Is the air conditioner broken again?" Donatello's voice had risen and fallen, finally becoming slurred and groggy, his teeth beginning to chatter.

"Well...yeah, but...you're just...just really sick, Donny" Raphael answered softly as he reached out a shaking hand and placed it upon Donatello's burning forehead.

"Raph's dead, isn't he?" Donatello whispered miserably. "That's why he never came home."

Raphael felt himself flinch. "I didn't die, Donny, remember? You saved my ass." Raphael sat down in the chair next to the bed and grasped his brother's burning, shaking hand in his own cooler ones.

Donatello blinked a few times his body relaxing before his eyes slid closed.

Raphael pulled a thick blanket up and over Donatello's shaking body while his eyes strayed to Michelangelo's terrified face. "You wanna use Donny's laptop and see if there's anything we can do for him?"

Michelangelo's overly bright eyes pulled away from Donatello's trembling form and focused on Raphael before he gave a slow nod of acknowledgement.

Raphael gave Donatello's hand one final squeeze before he let go. Standing, he walked over to Donatello's desk and grabbed the laptop, handing it to his baby brother. Michelangelo took the laptop and scanned the page they had been reading before they had taken Donatello for his icy dip in the bathtub.

As Raphael looked at Donatello's pale face, his mind focused upon Leonardo, who had pushed them all so much and so far, that Donatello was now suffering from heat stroke.

"It says that the patient should be rehydrated," Michelangelo's soft voice interrupted Raphael's straying thoughts.

Raphael sighed. They couldn't get Donatello to drink anything, so that meant they were going to have to put an IV into him. This was fine, but Leonardo was the only one who was able to do this besides Donatello. Michelangelo was too squeamish and Raphael himself was too impatient and feared that he would mess it up; which meant he was going to have to talk to Leonardo to do it.

"Watch him, kay, Mikey?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, strode from room.

He walked down the hallway and peeked into Leonardo's bedroom, which was empty. Raphael turned his head slightly, listening for any indication of where his older brother had gone.

He closed his eyes in irritation, trying to restrain his anger. He leapt over the railing to land on the lower level. He recovered and stormed into the dojo, where Leonardo was practicing a set of katas, a blindfold covering his eyes.

Raphael strode over to his older brother, who heard him coming. Leonardo paused in his movements.

"Come to tear another strip off me, Raphael?" Leonardo asked bitingly, not bothering to take the blindfold from his eyes.

Raphael ground his teeth together, took a calming breath, counted to ten, and realized he couldn't control his frayed temper. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" he snarled. "We got Donny lying on his bed upstairs, where he's rambling and not makin' much sense, sufferin' from heat stroke, and here you are, trying to give yourself the same damn thing!" Raphael roared as he strode up to his blue masked brother and ripped the blindfold from over his eyes.

"Don't you get it, Raph!?" Leonardo's dark chestnut eyes locked with Raphael's. "I need to make sure that I'm strong enough -good enough- in case we are ever attacked." Leonardo's gaze drifted away. "In case any of is taken by an enemy again," Leonardo told him, reaching out and moving the front of Raphael's trench coat out of the way, exposing a particularly gruesome, knotted scar that ran from his shoulder up to his neck, and stopping just short of his jugular.

Raphael flinched back, pulling his trench coat closed just as Leonardo reached out to trace the scar.

"Donny's right," Leonardo continued balling his hand into a fist. "I pushed you away, and no matter how many times Donny warned me, I still continued to push you until you stormed off and got yourself captured by Hun. I was supposed to protect you, but I did the opposite, and because of that you nearly died! I was weak and we barely managed to get you out alive, and Master Splinter..." his voice caught with grief before he continued. "And no matter how hard I try to not fight with you, that's all we seem to do! It's even worse than before!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"Why the hell you gotta always take the blame for everythin', huh, Fearless?" Raphael asked trying to keep the angry snarl from his voice. "Leo the oldest, the 'big' brother, the one always taking the blame for everything; bearing the burdens of the entire family," he mocked. "Well, you know what, Leo? I don't need your pity or your guilt. I'm a big boy now. Hell, it's been five years since it happened. I'm 28 years old and I can handle myself and I can handle the fact that I know it was ALL my damn fault. _My_ fault for storming off to clear my head; _my_ fault for trying to rough up some purple Dragons and gettin' in too deep; my fault for Master Splinter's death. So you can stop beatin' yourself up over somethin' that wasn't your fault."

Leonardo flinched. "It wasn't your-" he began but Raphael interrupted, not wanting to hear his brother's words.

"Bullshit it wasn't. I know it was, so why don't you just drop it," he hissed sharply.

Leonardo looked at him angrily opening his mouth before changing his mind about what he was going to say and finally continuing with his first line of thought. "I failed you, Raph." Leonardo ground out. "And because I failed you, I failed our father. And now, because of me, Donny could... Donny could-"

Raphael suddenly moved, pushing Leonardo back, and slamming him into the wall, his forearm braced against his big brother's throat. "Since when is everythin' about you, Leo?" Raphael snarled lowly, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You always gotta make everythin' about you. Donny's the one who's sick upstairs and here you are, makin' it all about you." His voice dripped with disgust. "I am so sick and tired of your bullshit. Keep your pity party to yourself and stop blamin' yourself for _my_ mistakes. But, if Donny dies 'cause of what you did, then yeah, feel free to blame yourself all you want, 'cause then it will be _your _fault," he bit out angrily as he released his arm from across his brother's throat.

"So maybe it's time for you to get you head out of your ass and get upstairs so you can help Donny," Raphael growled as Leonardo rubbed a hand across his throat.

"Raph?" Michelangelo's voice trembled in question.

Raphael blinked in shock, looking over his shoulder at their baby brother who he hadn't even heard limp into the room. "We're coming, Mikey," Raphael growled, taking one last glance at Leonardo before turning his attention back to his baby brother, who held Donatello's laptop in his hand.

Michelangelo looked back and forth between Leonardo and Raphael his eyes full of apprehension, his hands shaking.

"I don't think Donny has heat stroke," Michelangelo whispered unsteadily. Raphael resisted the urge to glance at Leonardo as Michelangelo continued. "Donny, he…he woke up, sort of. He asked for Master Splinter and then he started talking to him, as if I wasn't even in the room. And then he started talking to April about some computer thing that they managed to figure out, and I am really, really scared because I don't know why he's doing what he's doing, and while he was talking he got a nose bleed. It finally stopped, but the website doesn't say anything about any of this happening with heat stroke," Michelangelo's tumbling words fell quickly from his mouth, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Mikey, how's your ankle?" Leonardo asked gently as he approached Michelangelo who looked ready to collapse.

Michelangelo's eyes widened in shock, before he mumbled that his ankle was still sore. Leonardo reached out, supporting Michelangelo as he sagged gratefully into Leonardo, who quickly passed Raphael the laptop.

Raphael took the laptop from his older brother's hand, Leonardo concentrating on calming Michelangelo down by softly saying a few comforting words.

"What's wrong with Donny?" Michelangelo whispered as Raphael opened the laptop and scanned the page that Michelangelo had been reading. He slammed the laptop closed and ran from the room, his two brothers following him at a slower pace.

Raphael strode into Donatello's bedroom, their genius brother curled into the fetal position, his blankets kicked to the end of his bed, his body still wracked with violent chills.

"Donny?" Raphael questioned softly as he approached the bed slowly. That was when he noticed small black spots that had broken out across his brother's skin, just above his plastron and between his thighs.

Donatello opened his eyes, seemingly having a hard time getting them open before finally focusing on Raphael, who quickly sat in the chair at his brother's side.

"Raph?" Donatello asked in confusion as he tried to sit up.

Raphael reached out a hand to stop his brother from moving, pausing for a quick moment, wondering if Donatello was infectious, and then continuing his motion anyway. His hand touched his brother's burning flesh. "Yeah, it's me," Raphael said gently.

"I don't…I don't feel very well," Donatello stammered slightly as he shifted anyway, sitting up slightly as he clutched at his stomach.

"I know, Donny. You got a really bad fever and you have all these…spots," he informed his brother, hoping that Donatello would be able to shed some light on what was wrong with him.

"I'm so tired," Donatello complained running a hand across his eyes as he slumped down slightly. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Donny, I need you to tell me what's wrong with you." There was an edge to his voice now and he tried to rein in his worry, which tended to only feed his anger and frustration.

Donatello frowned in confusion or thought, Raphael wasn't sure which, but he hoped it was thought.

"I'm sorry, Raph." Donatello's eyes slid shut. "I'm just…I can't concentrate. I need to sleep. When I wake up…maybe…tell April for me that I don't think I can make it to the Museum tomorrow." And with that Donatello's body slumped back.

Raphael felt panic slide down his spine as he stared at Donatello in disbelief. His mind momentarily seemed to freeze, as if it was unable to grasp the enormity of what was happening.

Donatello was the medical expert. He was the one they all went to if they were sick or injured. Donatello was not supposed to get sick or be grievously injured, because if he ever was, they would be powerless to do anything to help him. But now, here they were, in the exact situation where they had hoped and prayed never to be in; one where they needed to help Donatello, but none of them knew _how_.

The question of '_who doctors the doctor?'_ tore through his mind. He turned a pleading gaze towards Leonardo, hoping that his older brother knew what to do, only he encountered Leonardo's own panicked and worried gaze in return.

Raphael swallowed down the lump of horror that rose in his throat as he turned his gaze back to his seriously ill brother.

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**Uh, oh, that's not good...**

**Thoughts? Opinions?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello all! How is everyone doing? I finally got the next installment of Heat Wave just in time for the weekend!**

**A giant thank you to everyone who has decided to keep reading this fic, it means a lot to me!XD**

**Also a HUGE thank you to SleepingSeeker, Teen Titans Tmnt, Kittyfan12, Little Soldier Mine, Not Even The Turtle, Dominosowner, violet-bo, ShamrockClover, BubblyShell22, donena, Bellefard98, Bri, and a fanfictioner for leaving your wonderful reviews :D**

**Lastly, thank you to Amonraphoenix for taking the time to beta this chapter for me! You are amazing!**

**and now...please enjoy! **

* * *

Chapter 3

**Raphael** bathed Donatello's fevered brow with a cold, damp cloth; his hand shaking so much that he had to concentrate on keeping it still. He didn't want his brothers seeing how much he was beginning to break under the strain of Donatello's mysterious illness that -with every passing day- seemed to be getting worse.

It had been a little over a week and Donatello hadn't made any improvement, his symptoms multiplying and becoming more desperately heart breaking.

Raphael closed his eyes, listening to Donatello's strained wheezing as he took a shallow breath, the exhalation of air from his lungs making a soft, unpleasant and horrifying rattling sound. Raphael tried to block out the breathing, but his ears only found the monotonous beep of the heart monitor. They had hooked Donatello up to the heart monitoring machine when they had realized that Donatello's heart was beating much too quickly and irregular.

Listening to the two sounds that filled the room only seemed to push the breath from his own lungs, suffocating him with fear and helplessness. If they knew what was happening to their genius brother, then they would be able to actually _do_ something for him. As it was they still had no idea what was wrong with Donatello. They had done numerous searches on the internet -new symptoms being added to an ever growing list- but there were just too many diseases, conditions and general illnesses that fit the search criteria to even begin to narrow them down.

Of course, they were trying anyway.

Even though April wasn't a doctor, her medical knowledge was still better than theirs was, and it was painful not being able to contact her. Their friends had only taken one phone with them, and they were in Paris, eschewing all technology in favour of relaxing and enjoying their romantic getaway.

Leonardo was on Donatello's computer in his lab right now, trying to discover why Donatello's heart was beating so quickly and irregularly, his breathing so raspy, his stomach so sore, and why their brother had suddenly become paralyzed from the waist down.

Two days ago -in a brief moment of clarity- Donatello had groggily asked how long he had been lying in bed for, because his feet had fallen asleep. They had tried to massage feeling back into Donatello's feet but they had soon realized that Donatello had absolutely no sensation below his ankles. By dinner that night, Donatello had lost all feeling below his knees; yesterday, nothing below his waist.

Terror was beginning to choke him, and Donatello hadn't been any help to them. Whenever their genius brother was actually aware of what was going on, he was either too tired, or his mind would wander, unable to focus for long enough to give them any suggestions or answers as to what was happening to him.

Raphael felt tears sting his eyes as he reached out and gave Donatello's limp, burning hand a gentle squeeze. Donatello turned his head slightly, opening his eyes a crack. Hope rose within him that perhaps his brother had actually felt his touch as he had grasped his hand.

"Donny?" he asked tentatively.

"Raph, I think I left the free electron laser turned on in the lab," Donatello mumbled.

Raphael swallowed down the lump in his throat, the hope that had risen within him turning to bitter ash as he gently explained to his brother that everything in the lab was powered off.

"That's good," Donatello sighed softly, his breathing becoming even more strained and raspy.

Raphael could feel his heart slamming painfully against his ribcage, the blood rushing through his ears as Donatello closed his eyes again, each breath a hard won struggle.

"Donny?" he asked, his voice coming out choked and apprehensive. Even though he was trying his best not to let on how worried he was, his fear managed to seep through his normally gruff exterior anyway; not fooling either of his brothers or even himself anymore.

And the truth was, that he was terrified.

He had never been so scared in his life, and considering that he spent a good deal of his life facing down danger and death, this was saying something. He had no problem looking Death in the eye and mocking him; telling the Reaper to give him his best shot. But the fear that skittered down his spine when it was any of his brothers looking Death in the eye was, to him, unbearable.

Raphael felt a presence behind him and knew his older brother had silently entered the room.

"Has he woken up?" Leonardo's strained, exhausted voice asked.

None of them had been able to really sleep, only managing to catch a few hours of rest here and there between their constant searching for answers and bedside vigils.

"Yeah, but I don't think he was really…You know," he replied his own voice disheartened.

Leonardo looked over his shoulder and gently closed the door. Raphael straightened in his chair, fresh terror gripping his heart and soul.

"D-did you find something?" Raphael found himself stammering, his hand, which still gripped Donatello's, gave an involuntary squeeze.

Leonardo shook his head wretchedly. "No, but..." Leonardo paused as he glanced at Donatello, before his eyes shifted to the heart monitor, which began to give a high pitched alarm in warning.

Raphael's eyes shot to the blinking numbers, silently willing them to stop rising and to drop before they reached even more dangerous levels. Within moments Donatello's heart rate levelled off to a still too quick but acceptable level; the heart monitor ceasing its blaring noise.

A horrible thought suddenly entered Raphael's brain as he stared at the heart monitor with apprehension; Donatello's breathing seeming to become even shallower and more difficult.

"Do you think that whatever is paralyzing Donny's limbs...Do you think it's startin' to paralyze his lungs and heart too?" Raphael found himself asking his older brother, not daring to take his eyes away from the heart monitor.

There was a long pause before Leonardo finally answered, "I don't know." His voice was soft and contained the faint edge of irritation, as if he was angry with himself for not thinking about that possibility earlier.

Raphael closed his eyes as an almost physical pain assaulted him, leaving him breathless; as if the air had been knocked from his lungs leaving him unable to catch his breath.

"Please tell me you've found something...anything," Raphael managed to whisper out, opening his eyes and wondering why Leonardo had closed the door to Donatello's room.

Leonardo walked into Raphael's line of sight, slowly easing himself down to sit on the bed next to Donatello's sleeping form. "I haven't found anything yet, Raph," Leonardo reluctantly admitted. "There's just…too many results that come up and I'm trying to narrow them down, but none of them seem to…to fit all of Donny's symptoms."

Raphael gritted his teeth in frustration, his worry changing to fury as helplessness filled him.

"But, I think I found a few things." Leonardo's words cut through Raphael's anger like a hot knife through butter. His heart clenched in fear as he flicked a quick glance at the door as Michelangelo opened it, shuffling slowly into the room.

Michelangelo was able to walk on his ankle again, the sprain healing, but this fact had not lightened their baby brother's mood any.

Michelangelo's shoulders were slumped with worry verging on defeat and as their baby brother's eyes rose to meet Leonardo's, his shoulders slumped even more; if that were even possible.

Raphael quickly stood, motioning for Michelangelo to take his chair which was pulled close to Donatello's bed.

Leonardo shot Raphael an irritated look, indicating that whatever his older brother was going to say, he hadn't wanted Michelangelo to hear it.

Raphael narrowed his eyes and gave a slight shake of his head indicating that as much as he wanted to protect Michelangelo from whatever Leonardo was about to reveal, keeping the truth from him would only result in Michelangelo's feelings being hurt when he found out, and right now, Raphael didn't think Michelangelo could take much more hurt being shovelled into his sensitive heart.

Michelangelo looked like death warmed over. He had dark circles beneath his eyes which seemed to have sunken into his drawn, pale face. Not that Raphael or Leonardo looked any better than their baby brother, but still, just looking at Michelangelo made Raphael's heart fill with worry for him.

He wasn't sure when the last time Michelangelo had slept or eaten; not that Raphael had paid much attention to when he himself or Leonardo had last slept or eaten either. Their lives had been consumed by trying to figure out what was wrong with Donatello, keeping Donatello alive, and making sure he was hydrated, clean, and comfortable.

They were all exhausted, depressed, frustrated and despondent; their nerves stretched taunt and fraying around the edges.

The room fell into a tense silence as they all listened to the steady beep of the heart monitor machine; consumed by their own dark thoughts.

Finally, Raphael shot a glance at Leonardo, realizing that his older brother had no intention of revealing what he had learned while Michelangelo was in the room.

Taking a quick look at Michelangelo, who had sat in the chair Raphael had offered, his felt his heart twist at the sight of his baby brother's body hunched forward, his elbows on his knees, head resting on his hands as he stared at Donatello, a lost, hopeless look on his face.

Raphael cleared his throat, realizing that he was going to have to be the one to move things along. This was fine with him; he had no problem pissing his older brother off.

"You wanted to tell me somethin' you found, Leo?" he asked curiously.

Leonardo narrowed his eyes with irritation, but Michelangelo's head shot up, eyes widening and filling with desperate hope.

Their older brother's shoulders slumped slightly as he took in Michelangelo's pleading gaze. Leonardo then threw Raphael a look that promised severe retribution later as he shifted slightly on Donatello's bed.

"I haven't found anything concrete, Mikey," Leonardo began hesitantly and Michelangelo deflated at his words, losing his look of hopeful anticipation as his gaze fell back down to his hands. "But I have found a few things that sound like what Donny might have," he quickly finished.

Michelangelo looked back up, his face not as full of hope, but still containing a sliver of it.

Leonardo let out a pent up puff of air and pulled a folded piece of paper from his belt. He glanced at both of them before unfolding the white sheet and read the words slowly and carefully, his tongue stumbling over the unfamiliar words.

"Aortic Stenosis, Histoplasmosis, "Typhoid fever, Rheumatic fever, and Sarcoidosis."

Raphael felt himself blinking at the medical terms Leonardo had just thrown at them. "Is that all one thing or a bunch of things?" he asked in confusion.

Leonardo flicked him a quick glance, his face falling into irritated lines before smoothing out the paper and patiently explaining that they were five different illnesses.

"So what makes these ones better than all the other ones we've been coming up with for over a week now?" Raphael asked skeptically.

Leonardo cast a quick glance at Michelangelo before continuing. "These ones seem to fit more with what Donny has, and...we may have to…to accept the possibility that any one of these might be what's wrong with him."

Raphael felt his spine stiffen, his attention snapping to a pinpoint awareness of his brother's words. The slight stammer in his older brother's sentence made Raphael aware that something was different with this list than from previous, other rejected lists.

"Okay," Raphael said slowly. "Break 'em down, Leo."

They had gotten good at this part. One brother would list off symptoms and the other brothers would either support or reject the illness. So far, none of the illnesses had passed muster, which was a relief in some ways, because this meant that some of the more serious diseases and illnesses had been rejected along with the less serious ones as well.

"Aortic Stenosis: breathlessness, chest pain, faintness, dizziness or fatigue with activity, sensation of the heart beating," Leonardo read, looking up as Raphael frowned, acknowledging that a good number of the symptoms fit.

"Okay, so what is it?" Raphael asked.

Leonardo bit his lip. "The symptoms sound good, but…it's a problem with the heart, one that takes years to happen, usually only affecting the old or the very young."

Raphael closed his eyes in irritation. "So why'd you even write that one down when you already know that Donny don't got it." Raphael opened his eyes and glared at his cerulean masked brother.

"I know, but…while I was looking at Aoritic Stenosis, which sounded a lot like what Donny has, I came across something that was associated with Aortic Stenosis; Rheumatic Fever," Leonardo answered, and this caught Raphael's attention.

"Okay soooooo... Donny could have this fever thing which could eventually give him the heart thing?" Raphael asked trying to clarify his older brother's words.

"Yes," Leonardo affirmed with a nod. "Rheumatic fever could cause Aortic Stenosis, but as I said, this generally happens five to ten years after the initial infection."

Raphael tried to wrap his mind around what his brother was saying.

"What are the symptoms of Rheumatic fever?" Michelangelo asked quietly. Leonardo turned his attention to Michelangelo who shifted his attention to Raphael. "Leo's saying that if Donny has this Rheumatic fever, then it's possible that in a few years Donny's heart could begin to fail because of the Aortic thing," Michelangelo informed Raphael in a voice that shook and that was laced heavily with weariness.

Raphael's eyes shot to Leonardo who confirmed Michelangelo's observation with a slight nod before he began to read off the symptoms of Rheumatic fever.

"Abdominal pain, fever, shortness of breath and chest pain due to heart problems, swollen joints, joint pain, nosebleeds, skin rash possibly snake or ring like, emotional instability, jerky, uncoordinated movements, and weakness." Leonardo looked up from his sheet of paper, judging their reactions.

Raphael shared a look with Michelangelo. "Sounds almost bang on, Leo," Raphael admitted.

Leonardo nodded in agreement.

"How do you get Rheumatic fever?" Michelangelo asked.

"Usually after having Strep throat or Scarlet fever," Leonardo answered.

"Didn't Donny have strep throat a few years back?" Raphael asked, mining his memory for what he remembered about his brother being sick, and April managing to get antibiotics to help him.

"Yes," Leonardo stated.

"Okay," Raphael acknowledge Leonardo's words, "we got a contender, you wanna read the rest of your list or are we sticking with the fever thing?" Raphael asked as Michelangelo stood, walking over to Donatello's desk.

Picking up the laptop, Michelangelo opened it and made his way back to his seat, sitting back down in the chair he had just vacated.

Leonardo glanced at Michelangelo, but continued. "There are a few things that don't fit with the fever, but...I don't want to discount it just yet," Leonardo answered.

Raphael nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Leonardo to continue.

"Histoplasmosis is a fungal infection that you can pick up from the soil, especially soil high in bird and bat droppings," Leonardo began. Raphael frowned and listened as Leonardo listed off the symptoms. "Fever, chills, cough, chest pain, joint pain, red bumps usually over the lower legs, and sores in the mouth. It can also spread into the lungs and throughout the body causing heart problems and breathing problems."

"Great, that sounds like what Donny has too," Raphael growled in irritation.

Michelangelo gave a distracted nod, his focus upon the lit screen in front of him, his eyes scanning something.

"And it is common in the mid-Atlantic, Southeastern and Central states," Leonardo added.

"Okay, next one," Raphael said, punctuating his words with a movement from his hand.

Leonardo looked down at his list again. "Typhoid fever, usually contracted because of unsanitary conditions."

They all glanced at each other, knowing that they lived in a sewer, and that although they kept their lair as clean as they could, they still travelled through the city's extensive network of sewer systems.

"He would have to have ingested the contaminated food or water, and the symptoms include high fever, slow or irregular heartbeat, headache, cough, nose bleeds, abdominal pain, delirium, and rose spots on abdomen."

Raphael swore under his breath. That one sounded like what Donatello had as well, but Leonardo wasn't done yet. "Sarcoidosis: chest pain, dry cough, skin sores on the lower part of the legs, shortness of breath, fever, fatigue, joint pain, headache, seizures, fainting spells, nosebleeds, swelling in the upper abdomen, and rash."

Raphael suddenly felt overwhelmed. Every single illness or disease Leonardo was giving them all sounded like what Donatello had. Raphael uncrossed his arms and closed his hands into frustrated fists.

"It's not Rheumatic fever." Michelangelo said into the silence that had pervaded the room after Leonardo finished speaking. "It says here that Donny would have had to have had strep throat a month ago at the latest, and Donny hasn't had it since he was a teenager."

Raphael felt the tiny ball of dread that was sitting in a scrunched up ball in his stomach, uncurl slightly.

"So we can cross that off along with Aortic Stenosis," Michelangelo informed them as his eyes rapidly scanned the laptop screen in front of him.

Raphael blinked in shock at Michelangelo; realizing that his baby brother was holding it together rather well, and was actually being useful and helping them.

Michelangelo looked up at them, glanced back and forth between his two older brothers and sighed. "I know I'm the youngest, but just because I am the 'baby' of the family, doesn't mean I_ am_ a baby," he grumbled peevishly. "And I know you guys think that I'm not that smart, but I can understand stuff if I need to."

Leonardo let out an embarrassed cough, and looked towards Raphael.

"We know you ain't stupid, Mikey," Raphael told his baby brother gruffly, "And we know you ain't a baby."

"Then let me help and quit trying to hide things from me," Michelangelo snapped.

Raphael exchanged a look with Leonardo and gave a slight shrug, indicating that he was not opposed to their baby brother's demands. Raphael protected Michelangelo as much as he was able, especially in the heat of battle, but right now, they needed all the help they could get to care for and figure out what was wrong with Donatello.

Leonardo pursed his lips and gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

"Histoplasmosis fits except Donny has no mouth sores," Michelangelo said to Leonardo.

"Yeah and it doesn't explain why he's partially paralyzed," Raphael pointed out.

"Still-" Leonardo began thoughtfully.

"And Typhoid fever fits," Michelangelo interrupted, "but we eat and drink everything that Donny eats and drinks, and we aren't sick," Michelangelo pointed out.

Raphael nodded, knowing that they had also eliminated any illnesses that were contagious, as none of the rest of them had gotten sick with whatever Donatello had.

"As for Sarcoidosis...it fits," Michelangelo said, passing the laptop to Leonardo who had motioned that he wanted to take a look at what Michelangelo was looking at.

"It's 3 am, Mikey," Donatello suddenly mumbled. "That's what you get for watching 'Return of the Swamp Thing'." Donatello shifted his head, wincing in pain as his eyes fluttered open. "I can't do it, Master Splinter. I just...it's so deep, I don't...I'll drown."

Leonardo shifted, placing a hand on Donatello's cheek. "Donny! Donny, wake up," he begged softly.

"The trees are pretty this time of year. I can almost see the stars tonight," Donatello replied. "My...my neck feels stiff."

Raphael felt his heart jump in surprise, hoping that Donatello was indeed aware of what was going on and if he was, that it would last longer than a few moments.

"Can you tell me how you feel?" Leonardo asked carefully.

"It's too bright," Donatello said, closing his eyes and lifting a shaking hand against the artificial light that filled the room.

Raphael moved, turning the light off and switching on the desk lamp to allow some small amount of light to fill the room.

"Is that better?" Leonardo asked their brother who nodded.

"Chest hurts, head hurts, it's hard to breathe..." Donatello's voice drifted off before he focused on Leonardo. "I don't need your help, Leo," Donatello suddenly snarled.

Raphael felt his mouth fall open in astonishment as he stared at Donatello in shock at his brother's harshly snapped words. Raphael knew himself to be a horrible patient, but he had never heard Donatello talk the way he just had.

"I hate you!" Donatello shouted at Leonardo as he managed to struggle into a sitting position. "You always think you know what's best for all of us, and you don't care about our feelings or our needs, just yours. You and your stupid honour always has to be satisfied. You aren't smarter or better than us!" Donatello's chest was heaving, his breath raspy and wheezing, teeth clenched together in pain and anger.

"I-I..." Leonardo stammered, completely non-pulsed at what he should say or do to deal with Donatello's sudden and unexpected verbal assault.

"You are all useless!" Donatello spat in disgust. "I work my fingers to the bone and none of you ever appreciates what I do. I managed to put Raph back together again and is he thankful for it, no! All he does is try to get himself killed! Mikey always messes up my experiments and if I had no brothers, my life would be so much better!"

"Donny?" Michelangelo squeaked, his eyes wide and full of hurt and tears.

Donatello's eyes narrowed, his lip curling up into a sneer. He opened his mouth to say something but winced in pain, clutching at his head. "I don't need help...I help. I don't need anyone-" Donatello's growled words were cut off by a swift intake of breath that was followed by a dry, hacking cough.

"You need to rest, Donny," Leonardo forced the words past his lips, his jaw clenched together so tightly that Raphael was amazed that Leonardo was able to get the five small words out.

Donatello suddenly shot backwards, his body pushing into the wall, complete and utter fear filling his eyes as he stared at Leonardo.

"T-The...What did you do to my brothers?" Donatello stammered out, his heart rate increasing causing the heart monitor to begin to beep its alarm.

"Donny, you need to-" Leonardo began but was cut off by Donatello who suddenly clenched his fists together in anger. "Let my brothers go, Shredder."

"Great, Donny's hallucinating again," Raphael murmured under his breath as Leonardo attempted to calm an increasingly hysterical Donatello down.

"Leo, you'd better get out of here, and take Mikey with you." Raphael motioned as Michelangelo picked the discarded laptop off the bed. Leonardo reluctantly stood, not even attempting to argue with him.

Raphael strode forward, not paying attention as his two brothers left the room, closing the door behind them.

This wasn't the first hysterical outburst or hallucination that Donatello had experienced. But for some reason, Raphael was able to calm his genius brother down; that or he had gotten lucky so far.

Donatello's wide eyes scanned his room, not even seeing Raphael who had sat back down in the chair Michelangelo had just vacated.

"Hun! You...you are going to pay!" Donatello shouted, his voice choked.

"You have to calm down, Donny," he told his brother gently.

"They will all pay!" Donatello screamed, tears beginning to streak down his brother's flushed cheeks.

Raphael's eyes shot to the heart monitor again, knowing that if Donatello's heartbeat didn't slow down soon, that he would go into cardiac arrest.

"They, did pay, Donny, remember?" Raphael told him soothingly, carefully reaching out and laying a gentle hand upon his brother's burning shoulder.

"Raph..." Donatello's eyes finally found Raphael's. "Help," he whispered.

That one word made Raphael's heart twist with fear and grief, Donatello's eyes sliding closed as he slumped down.

Donatello's heart rate returned to normal and Raphael shifted his brother on the bed, tucking him back in and covering him with a thin sheet.

Raphael reluctantly stood, and sighed with what felt suspiciously like defeat.

Shoulders slumped he made his way slowly to the door, opening it and gently closing it behind him.

Raphael found both Michelangelo and Leonardo in the hallway, their faces glued to Donatello's laptop.

"He's sleeping...or unconscious. I don't know which," Raphael grimly informed them.

Leonardo slowly lifted his eyes from the laptop. "It isn't Histoplasmosis or Sarcodosis," he began softly. "I think...I think that whatever is wrong with Donny..." Leonardo swallowed roughly. "I think it may be affecting his brain."

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**Sooo...did everyone enjoy?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello all, update time!:D And this will have to tide you over for a week or two as I am going on vacation:) But rest assured, I will be back to update this fic! **

**A giant that thank you to SleepignSeeker, ShamrockClover, dondena, Not Even The Turtle, Heather, BubblyShell22, Miss Anonymous, Little Soldier Mine, helfyrephoenix, I love kittens too, liltikewriter, and a fanfictioner for posting your lovely reviews! They mean so much to me!XD**

**Also a huge thank you to Amonraphoenix for beta reading this chapter for me, you are amazing!**

**And now...enjoy:)**

* * *

Chapter 4

**Raphael** felt his heart slam painfully against his rib cage at Leonardo's grim pronouncement. "Whadaya mean it's his brain?" he asked stupidly. He of course grasped the concept that something was wrong with their genius brother's mind, but he just didn't understand what had changed in the few minutes it had taken him to calm Donatello down, tuck him in, and exit the room.

They had been dealing with Donatello's feverish hallucinations, his erratic ramblings and his inability to remain alert and aware for long periods of time for over a week now. But at the bleak looks etched across Leonardo and Michelangelo's faces, Raphael's lungs constricted tightly, making it hard for him to take a breath.

"We've been looking at Donatello's symptoms, but his paralysis didn't fit, and neither did his random mood swings," Leonardo explained.

Which of course didn't help because his older brother had yet to get to the_ actual_ point.

Michelangelo cleared his throat, pointing to the computer screen. "The fever would explain some things, like hallucinations and confusion, but it wouldn't explain his rapid mood swings or why his mind is unable to stay focused."

Leonardo continued, his voice filling with frustration."We watched Donny go from waking dream to coherent awareness to angry and resentful, to full on hallucinating; all within a matter of moments."

Michelangelo quickly cut in. "But when Donny said his neck was stiff, little alarm bells began ringing in my head." he explained. "I remembered back when Donny had Strep throat and April was looking after him. I remember she said that it was really important to treat the Strep throat properly or else it could get into his brain somehow. Well, not the _actual_ Strep throat. It would cause something else, like a chain reaction, rare but it could happen. Anyway, this thing that could get into Donny's head was called Meningitis, and I remembered it 'cause I was so scared that Donny would get it, because it could kill him and kill him fast. I asked April how I could tell if Donny got Meningitis and she said flu-like symptoms and a stiff neck." Michelangelo gave his head a quick shake. "I was so scared for Donny that it stuck in my head. Donny never got it back then, but..." Michelangelo turned the computer screen towards him. "I think that's what he has now," Michelangelo's voice wavered as he paled.

"Okay, great, we got some-" Raphael cut himself off as he processed all of what Michelangelo had told him. "What do you mean kill him?" he asked, his voice low and shaking slightly.

"The infection attacks the brain," Leonardo explained when it seemed like Michelangelo was unable to gather his thoughts and put them into words. Or it was possible that now that Michelangelo had managed to figure out what Donatello had, he wasn't able to handle the horrific information.

"It's okay, Mikey," Leonardo soothed, rubbing Michelangelo's carapace comfortingly. "We know what's wrong with him."

Michelangelo closed his eyes and shook his head. "No we don't," he whispered miserably.

"We-" Leonardo began but Michelangelo shook his head again, pulling away from Leonardo's comforting touch and leaning up against the brick wall of the hallway.

Michelangelo rubbed his eyes and slid down the wall until he was crouched on the floor. Raphael darted forward, scared that Michelangelo had momentarily fainted, or was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Raphael could feel Leonardo's accusing eyes boring into the side of his skull as he gently placed his hand upon his baby brother's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Michelangelo said in a tight voice, brushing Raphael's hand away. "I'm not freaking out. I'm just... I'm just so tired." Michelangelo dragged his hands down his face again looking up at Leonardo, exhaustion, worry and grief clearly written across his face. "Donny isn't going to make it," he stated bluntly, voice bleak.

Leonardo snapped the laptop closed and knelt on the other side of Michelangelo. "Of course he is, Mikey."

Michelangelo was already shaking his head. "Even if Donny has Meningitis, which we don't even know for sure," Michelangelo put in quickly as Leonardo opened his mouth to object. "There are too many kinds of Meningitis to narrow it down," Michelangelo pointed out tiredly.

"Then we figure it out," Raphael snarled, grinding his teeth together over his baby brother's defeated attitude.

"Raph-" Michelangelo began as he slid up the wall, forcing his two older brothers to stand as well.

"No!" Raphael snapped. "We don't give up on Donny. He never gave up on savin' my sorry ass, so we don't EVER give up on him!"

Michelangelo held his gaze, his features tired and drawn. "I'm not saying we give up on him, Raph." Michelangelo glanced at Leonardo before speaking again, including both of them in what he was about to say next. "I'm just saying that...that we make sure Donny is comfortable and..."

"NO!" Raphael snarled. "I am not gonna go back into that room and give Donny up for dead. I am NOT going to hold his hand and say my final goodbyes. We are gonna save him, we...we _gotta _save him." His voice lost much of his anger and heat as he choked out the last four words like a heartfelt plea of desperate need.

He was usually so good at holding onto his anger. It was his shield, that part of himself that allowed him to hide all of his emotions and keep everyone at arm's length. He loved his family, his friends, but he hated being vulnerable and letting any of them in, because then that would mean he was open to being hurt. And right now, he felt raw; his very soul stripped bare and on display for all to see.

"No one is giving up, Raphael," Leonardo soothed and he sent a fierce look of determination towards Michelangelo.

"I didn't say we give up!" Michelangelo snapped, snatching the laptop away from Leonardo. "But the meningitis is in Donny's BRAIN. It's probably so inflamed right now that it's the reason he can't move his legs anymore. It's travelled into his spinal column and he's only going to get worse." Leonardo and Raphael both blinked slowly at their baby brother, whose face pulled into a snarl. "I may not understand half of what those medical websites say, but I CAN read," he shot back at their obvious looks of disbelief in his medical assessment of Donatello.

Michelangelo clutched at the laptop and Leonardo gently pried it from Michelangelo's hands, placing his hand upon Michelangelo's shoulder and steering him towards Donatello's bedroom.

"We'll figure this out, Mikey, and you're right. I think that it's important for us to be by Donatello's side and tell him how much we love him," Leonardo began gently, his voice rough with emotion. "But we are not saying goodbye." This next part was aimed directly at Raphael, who scowled darkly. "But maybe it will help Donny try to fight to live."

Michelangelo looked at Leonardo, his eyes filling with the intense need to cling onto hope, but then his face fell, as if knowing that hope was a fleeting intangible thing he could not even see at the moment, let alone grasp.

Michelangelo shook off Leonardo's hand and opened Donatello's door, walking inside the dimly lit room.

Leonardo stopped Raphael from following, his gaze intense. "We _will _figure this out."

Raphael frowned, but gave a curt nod. He thought for a moment, his fingers straying to his belt. "I'm calling April," he said suddenly turning away from Leonardo.

"Raph-" Leonardo began but Raphael interrupted whatever his older brother was going to say.

"I know they are half a world away, but I have to _try,"_ Raphael insisted. "Now that we sorta know what's going on, they need to know and we need to get April back here, 'cause I have no idea if Donny has the meds needed to cure what he has, and if he doesn't, we need April to get them for us," he stated firmly.

Leonardo's mouth closed with a snap as he gave a curt nod. "April probably won't answer," he warned gently.

"Then I'll leave a message," he ground out, pulling his shell cell from his belt and pushing send after he had scrolled over to April's contact information.

Leonardo nodded and turned, walking into Donatello's room and leaving him to talk with April if he could even get a hold of her.

He let the phone ring, April's happy tone inviting him to leave a message. "April, we need you to get home. Donny's sick. We think he has Meningitis and he's been sick for over a week. He's not doin' so good, and we need your help." He tried to make his voice sound firm and strong, but there were small, distinctive hitches and obvious panic that laced his words anyway. "He-" his words abruptly cut off as a horrified shout came from Donatello's bedroom along with the high pitched scream of the heart monitor's flatline. Raphael slammed his phone closed and ran to Donatello's bedroom, his heart in his throat as he took in the chaotic scene in front of him.

Donatello's arms thrashed, Michelangelo and Leonardo were trying to pin Donatello to the bed. Raphael blinked and all of the blood drained from his face as he realized their brother was not in the throes of some horrible nightmare or hallucination, but rather, he was having a seizure, his eyes rolled up into his head, bloody foam dribbling out the corner of his mouth.

Donatello's body suddenly stopped flailing and went frighteningly still as Raphael found the power to move his numb body past the threshold of Donatello's door and into the room.

Leonardo's fingers shot to the pulse point on Donatello's throat and Raphael felt every muscle in his body knot in anxious horror.

"Leo?" he questioned softly as Leonardo gave a quick nod acknowledging that Donatello was still alive as he and Michelangelo pulled away from Donatello's motionless form.

Michelangelo quickly placed the heart monitor back on Donatello's finger, it obviously having flown off when Donatello had begun seizing causing the flatline which had momentarily stopped Raphael's own heart cold.

"Give me the laptop, now!" Leonardo ordered, his voice shaking with fear.

Raphael scrambled to do Leonardo's bidding. He shoved the laptop into Leonardo's hands as his older and baby brother's perched on the edge of Donatello's bed.

Leonardo glanced up. "April?" he asked, his voice trying and failing to not sound hopeful.

Raphael only gave a quick shake of his head, indicating that he hadn't had any luck reaching their friends. He could only hope that they had decided to check their messages every once in a while. Though for all Raphael knew, it was probably the middle of the night in Paris at the moment. Or their phone was dead, or... the possibilities were endless and there was no guarantee that April or Casey would get their message before they came home next week.

Leonardo pursed his lips at Raphael's answer, but refocused all of his attention on the lit screen in front of him. Michelangelo leaned in and scanned the screen as well while Raphael paced back and forth in agitation.

He felt helpless and had no idea what to do. After a few moments that felt like hours, Raphael stopped and walked up to his two brothers, both of whom wore identical grim expressions.

Raphael felt his heart plummet into his chest at their faces, but swallowed, knowing he needed to know the truth, no matter how much it was going to hurt. He spared a quick glance at Donatello who sounded like he was on his last, final breaths. Each intake of air was a wheezing, gasping breath; each expulsion of air a rattle of death.

"Well?" His voice was sharp, cracking like a whip throughout the silent room.

Leonardo started, almost as if he had been so engrossed in what he was reading, he had forgotten there was anyone else in the room. And for all Raphael knew, his brother had been that engrossed. Raphael had scrolled through too many medical websites to count and knew that his brain throbbed after only a few moments of trying to understand the complex medical terminology and explanations.

"Mikey's right," Leonardo answered softly. "There are...there are at least five different types of meningitis. No, that's not even right. More there are five _causes_ of Meningitis."

Raphael felt his lungs constrict in his chest as he tried to push away his brother's words, as if they didn't matter. "So?" he managed to snarl.

Leonardo closed his eyes, as if gathering together the last remaining shreds of his patience, or his sanity; maybe both, maybe neither. But regardless, Leonardo opened his eyes and finally spoke, his voice containing the same note of hopelessness and defeat that Michelangelo's had contained in the hallway.

"So, I don't even know where to start," Leonardo answered, his voice the barest of whispers.

"We start at the beginning, that's where we start!" Raphael insisted, wishing he could grab the laptop and figure this all out himself. Unfortunately, he knew he didn't have the brain power necessary to back up his desire to figure out the whole Meningitis thing, but he had something neither of his brothers possessed any longer...

Hope.

Leonardo opened his mouth, but Raphael cut in before his brother could say something defeatist or depressing.

"We do what Donny would do; not stopping 'till we figured it out," Raphael bit out.

"Raph," Leonardo snapped. "Donny could have Bacterial, viral, fungal, parasitic, or non-infectious Meningitis," he patiently explained.

"So? We figure out which one he has."He began to pace again as he thought furiously. "There's gotta be some sort of test..." he knew he was thinking out loud but Michelangelo's words stopped him in his tracks.

"The only way to know for sure if Donny has meningitis is if we do a lumbar puncture."

Raphael frowned. "So, do it."

"Do you even know what a lumbar puncture is, Raph?" Leonardo asked in exasperation, his patience finally shredded to the point of being non-existent.

"Nope. Sounds like we poke him with something," he answered.

"A lumbar puncture is taking a sample of spinal fluid," Leonardo paused. "From his _spine_," Leonardo reiterated as if Raphael didn't know what spinal fluid was.

"Thanks, Leo, I got that part. I'm not a complete and total moron," he growled. "So, jam a needle into his spine and let's get this shit figured out."

"We can't just...just jam a needle into his spine!" Leonardo stammered out in horror.

"Why the hell not?" he asked, spreading his arms wide.

"Because it could paralyze him!" Leonardo retorted angrily.

Raphael allowed a moment for this to sink in. He rolled it around in his head before giving a slight nod, coming to a decision. "Paralyzed ain't dead. I say do it."

Michelangelo sighed and pulled Donatello's laptop onto his lap as Leonardo sputtered out his shock. "Raph, even if we did a lumbar puncture, that test only confirms Meningitis," Michelangelo carefully explained. "Not the type of meningitis he has. Each kind of meningitis has its own treatment, depending on the cause. "

Raphael closed his eyes spinning and slamming his fist into Donatello's brick wall; shredding a few pieces of paper with mathematical equations that had been taped to the rough surface.

"And according to this, once the seizures start..." Michelangelo's voice trailed off despondently. But Michelangelo had no need to finish his sentence his point was clear; Donatello was living on a finite amount of time.

"I was pretty sure I was a gonner," Raphael whispered roughly. "I hung in that room driftin' in and out of it, watching my blood drip to the ground whenever I would regain consciousness. It never lasted long, not really. The pain would drag me back down and each time my world went black, I didn't think I'd ever be waking up again. But I knew if I died, Leo'd blame himself. So I tried to hang on." He turned and faced his brothers. "Then I heard all of you, when you finally found me. Donny... I remember Donny's voice, his terror, and his absolute certainty that he couldn't save me. At that point, I was good with that; at least I lasted long enough to hear your voices one more time. But you know what? Donny still tried to save me; he tried, and he never gave up, even when I wanted him to." His voice shook with emotion and he found himself wiping away a stray tear with the back of his hand. Raphael swallowed before he spoke again. "So we are gonna figure this out, 'cause if Donny does end up dyin' I want to be able to tell myself that we did _everythin_g we could to save him."

He gave both of his brothers a meaningful look, daring either one of them to disagree with what he had just said. Michelangelo and Leonardo shared a quick glance before they both nodded simultaneously.

"Okay." Michelangelo's word came out broken and rough. He cleared his throat before continuing, his gaze focused upon the computer screen. "I think….I think we can rule out bacterial meningitis, since it usually affects newborns, young children…" he trailed off scanning the screen. "Donny hasn't had a skull fracture lately, has he?"

Leonardo shook his head.

"Then we can rule out bacterial." Michelangelo nodded, more sure of himself.

"And I am pretty sure Donny never had the mumps, chickenpox, shingles, some unpronounceable virus name, LCMV-whatever that is- herpes or HIV."

"Great, two down keep going," Raphael encouraged.

Michelangelo glanced up, his face shifting from focused to worried. "What if we're wrong and he doesn't even have meningitis?"

Leonardo opened his mouth to answer but then closed it, shaking his head from side apparently unable to formulate an answer.

"We have to try something, Mikey," Raphael answered his baby brother's question, his voice hushed and strained.

Michelangelo bit his lip and gave a reluctant nod of acceptance.

Leonardo cleared his throat, his voice breaking slightly. "Fungal meningitis usually affects those with a compromised immune system, but…" Leonardo's eyes roved across the screen. "The symptoms are gradual, not all at once."

"Skip it, keep going." Raphael suggested, beginning to pace again.

"Parasitic…" Michelangelo's voice trailed off as he studied the screen. "It doesn't really say. It just lists a bunch of garbally types of infections."

"Next," Raphael snapped, more harshly than he intended. Leonardo gave him a glare and Raphael studiously ignored the look, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other as he paced around the room like a caged animal.

"Non-infectious," Leonardo read out, a frown pulling the features of his face down. "Basically Donny would have to have an underlying condition, like cancer, sarcoidosis or a form of lupus, just to name a few."

"Great, well Donny was as healthy as a horse 'till-"

"-A little over two weeks ago." Michelangelo put in.

It was now Raphael's turn to frown as he stopped pacing and stared at his baby brother. "Whadaya mean over two weeks ago?" Raphael questioned in confusion.

"Donny was having headaches for about a week and a bit before he got sick. His stomach wasn't feeling very well either from the way he was pushing his food around on his plate," Michelangelo answered.

Leonardo and Raphael shared a look that Raphael took to mean that Leonardo had no idea that Donatello had been feeling under the weather.

"So why didn't Donny say anything?" Leonardo asked.

Michelangelo shrugged. "You know what Donny's like. He goes all mother hen on all of us when we are sick or hurt, but when he's sick, he never tells us because he figures that we can't do anything for him anyway. And besides, Donny ignores the fact that he has to eat and sleep most of the time. It isn't unusual for him to ignore that he's sick."

Raphael released an irritated breath of acknowledgement at Michelangelo's words. Donatello took care of all of them, but he rarely ever took care of himself.

He opened his mouth to ask Michelangelo why he hadn't mentioned that Donatello was sick, but snapped his mouth shut as he finished the thought in his head. He knew that even if Michelangelo had mentioned something it wouldn't have mattered. Raphael would have assumed that if it was something serious, Donatello would have mentioned it. And besides this, Donatello was the medic, he was the one who would have known what was wrong, and treated his symptoms accordingly, or at least, that's what Raphael would have believed.

"Okay," Raphael said breaking the heavy silence of the room. "So Donny's been sick for longer than we knew, and I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that he doesn't have any of those diseases Leo just listed. So that leaves what?" he asked trying to focus on the task at hand, and ignore the guilt that welled up within him.

He cast a quick glance at Leonardo and knew that his big brother was no doubt suffering the same pangs of guilt in regards to not noticing that Donatello was sick.

"I shouldn't have pushed him so hard," Leonardo mumbled under his breath.

Raphael sighed. "Leo, even if Donny hada said something, he woulda just waved off the fact he was sick. You know it, I know it, and Mikey knows it. Now stop blaming yourself and focus."

"I'm the big brother, I'm supposed to-"

"Blah, blah, blah, we ain't eight anymore, Leo. Give the big brother crap a rest will ya?!" Raphael snapped.

Leonardo glared and Raphael glared right back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fungal and parasitic," Michelangelo piped in helpfully, trying to pull their focus back to the matter at hand.

"Fine," Raphael ground out. "You said fungal only affected people whose immune systems sucked, right?"

"Yeah," Michelangelo answered. "And I just googled parasitic meningitis and I think we can rule it out 'cause I don't think Donny has been swimming in any warm, fresh water lakes or rivers lately."

"Nope, lakes are kinda cold around here," Raphael agreed.

"Except lately everything has been heating up," Leonardo pointed out. "And it says here that improperly treated swimming pools could also harbour the parasite."

As one they all looked in the direction of their central pool, where all of them had been swimming during the summer.

"But Donny makes sure the water's clean…right?" Michelangelo asked in a small voice.

Raphael shrugged. He was pretty sure Donatello did keep the pool clean, but he couldn't be certain the last time Donatello had cleaned it.

"Okay, so two possibilities. What do we do to fix him?" Raphael asked.

"For the fungal meningitis he would need a course of antifungal medications through an IV, depending on what kind of fungus caused the infection," Leonardo answered.

"Great." Raphael bit out in frustration. Even if Donatello did have fungal meningitis, they still had to figure out what kind of fungus had infected their genius brother. "Next," he growled impatiently, hoping the parasitic meningitis would give them a simpler cure for their ailing brother.

Leonardo frowned deeply and then went a sickly shade of grey-green.

Raphael felt his chest tighten as his skin went cold, pricking with sudden dread. "What? Don't tell me the cure for this one is even more complicated."

"Not more complicated," Leonardo's voice shook and cracked slightly. "In fact, it's very simple."

"Simple? Simple's good, I'll take simple," Raphael tried to keep his words steady.

"In this case, simple is bad. There are drugs that can kill the parasite in laboratory conditions-"

"Great, what's the problem?" Raphael asked, impatience filling his voice as he tried to contain the utter and complete terror that was dancing along his spine.

"It only works in the laboratory. The meningitis is fatal within 1-12 days of infection, even with treatment," Leonardo answered hollowly.

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**Dun, dun, duuunnnn... Ahhhh evil cliffie!**

**Congratulations to Little Soldier Mine for calling the meningitis diagnosis, and to anyone who screamed out in their heads or at their computers that this is what Donny had!**

**I hope you guys enjoyed:)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello All! I'm BAAAACK! **

**I will be updating a bunch of my fics this week, so yay! XD**

**I just wanted to thank all of my amazing reviewers: I love kittens too, SleepingSeeker, Shamrock Clover, violet-bo, Little Soldier Mine, 14rosie14, Heather, a fanfictioner, Not Even the Turtle, BubblyShell22, helfyrephoenix, Who am I. Well. I'm just me, dondena, hutcher and Teen Titans Tmnt. Thank you all so much and I apologize to all of you for not answering your reviews, I just have been so busy lately, but know that I appreciate every single one of them!**

**Also a giant thank you to Amonraphoenix, my amazing beta for beta reading this chapter for me. THANK YOU!**

**and now...please enjoy!**

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**Chapter 5**

**Raphael** swore he heard his older brother's words incorrectly. Leonardo had not just told them that Donatello could die.

"What do ya mean, fatal?" he asked stupidly. He understood the concept perfectly well, but it was as if his mind was having a problem wrapping itself around the possibility that whatever Donatello had, they wouldn't be able to cure.

"It…It's possible that Donny…That he might not make it," Leonardo's words shook slightly as he tried to pull himself together.

Michelangelo's face had paled to the same sickly grey-green shade as Leonardo's, but his face remained impassive as if he was in shock, or had already accepted this possibility long ago, and Leonardo's words weren't anything other than what Michelangelo had been expecting.

Raphael's eyes shot to the machine that let them know Donatello's heart was still beating, then to back Donatello, whose rasping breath grated on his already frayed nerves. He shook his head back and forth in denial. Donatello couldn't just…die. It wasn't…It wasn't possible, and it wasn't a possibility that he was willing to entertain at the moment. He latched onto the one shred of information that Leonardo had spoken that had given him some small, tiny bit of hope.

"Donny's been sick for longer than twelve days," he spoke quickly, his words nearly tumbling over each other in haste to get out.

Leonardo opened his mouth, as if to refute his claim, but seemed to let the words sink in, his mouth snapping shut, whatever he was going to say left unsaid. Instead, he turned his intense gaze upon Michelangelo who started slightly in surprise at the look Leonardo was giving him.

"Mikey, are you _sure _that Donny was sick before he fell off the roof?" Leonardo asked, his voice rough with emotion and something akin to fractured hope.

Michelangelo's eyes widened as he swallowed thickly. He licked his lips nervously and gave a slow nod. "I-I'm pretty sure..." his voice trailed off uncertainly.

Raphael closed his eyes as his fleeting, shaky hope was crushed by brutal reality. He opened his eyes and shared a look with his oldest brother.

Leonardo turned and grasped Michelangelo by the shoulders giving him a slight shake. "I need you to think, Mikey. Was Donny sick?" he asked insistently.

"H-he wasn't really eating a lot, but...but it's Donny, so sometimes he's just distracted, but I _think _so." Michelangelo's eyes welled with tears. He closed his eyes, dashing the tears away. He clenched his teeth together, fighting to stave off the horrendous tide of grief and fear that threatened to consume him. His eyes suddenly snapped open. "He had a headache," Michelangelo said suddenly. "I-I remember him popping a bunch of Tylenol, and I asked him what was wrong, and he said he had a headache that had been bugging him for a few days."

"When did Donny tell you he had a headache?" Leonardo rubbed Michelangelo's shoulders, indicating that Michelangelo was doing really well, and that he needed to focus and tell them what they needed to know. "I can't remember exactly, but..." he closed his eyes tightly, trying to recall some tiny morsel of information. "I wanted him to watch _Nightstalkers 5_ with me and he said he was going to go to bed...As in his _actual _bed." Michelangelo opened his eyes and shook his head. "I think that was three days before he fell off the roof. He might have been feeling sick before then, but I can say for sure," Michelangelo's voice wavered as he shook his head from side to side.

Leonardo nodded and released Michelangelo's shoulders, turning towards Raphael.

"Whatever," Raphael growled, resuming his pacing. "Doesn't matter. Don't care if Donny still falls within that little parasitic meningitis time window of hell. I ain't acceptin' that he's gonna die. So I'm goin' with the fungal one. We treat him, he'll get better."

"Raph, you can't just-" Leonardo's stern, exasperated words were suddenly cut off by Raphael's cell beginning to ring. Raphael snatched his phone from his belt and flipped it open.

April's frantic voice graced his ears and he had never been so glad to hear their friend's voice in his life.

"April," his voice was raspy and contained a tremor of desperation and fear.

He listened intently to April's words. Raphael could tell that their friend was as frightened as they were, but she managed to remain calm, her words precise, direct and instructive.

At her final words Raphael felt his throat constrict with terror and something very close to misery. He tried to swallow, to thank her, but found that he couldn't manage to get any words past his tightened throat. His hand fell to the side as he flipped the cover closed.

He wasn't sure how long he stared at nothing, his mind a tumultuous mass of raging, pulsing emotions that clouded his ability to think or even reason with himself. He held his phone more tightly in his hand, the metal, glass and plastic beginning to creak within his punishing grip.

"Raph?" Leonardo's hesitant voice broke through the red and black haze that danced before his eyes.

He suddenly spun, launching his phone at the nearest wall. The phone shattered upon impact with a satisfying crack, the pieces bouncing and tumbling to the ground.

Leonardo slowly stood, but didn't offer up any further questions, almost as if he was too frightened of any answer he would give.

Raphael tried to get his pounding heart to slow and his breathing under control before he spoke. He finally managed to swallow down the lump that was obstructing his windpipe. "April said that we have to confirm that it's meningitis and the right kind of meningitis 'cause if we treat him for somethin' he doesn't have...we could kill him." Even to his own ears his voice sounded hollow.

He knew that the only way to confirm meningitis was to do a spinal tap, and he had been good with doing one, he understood the concept, but he hadn't understood the actual process until April had told him exactly what it entailed.

Raphael looked over at his sleeping brother, his chest struggling to rise and fall with each of his faint breaths.

They would have to take a drill and bore it through Donatello's shell until they reached the flesh beneath, pierce through the tough, protective membrane and insert a needle into Donatello's spine, extracting the much needed fluid.

And they were going to have to perform this test upon Donatello by themselves..

April and Casey were going to try to get home as fast as they could, but it was going to take them time to get to an airport, book a flight and get home. They had apparently gone backpacking through the beautiful Parisian countryside and were not close to any major city centers, but they were going to do their best.

He closed his eyes. For some stupid reason doing a spinal tap hadn't seemed like a big deal. Stick a needle into Donatello's spine, collect the fluid, done; just like taking a blood sample. And although he knew it wasn't that simple and easy, and that Donatello could become paralyzed if they messed things up, the enormity of the task suddenly struck him like a bucket of ice water, freezing the blood in his veins and suffocating him.

They would have to DRILL through their brother's carapace...with a _drill._

He must have said this thought out loud because he heard Michelangelo gasp in shock and horror. Raphael's eyes shot open, encountering Leonardo's steady, yet terrified gaze. Raphael could tell that his older brother was trying to hold it together, but even his calm demeanour was beginning to crack.

Raphael cleared his throat before he spoke telling both of his brothers exactly what April had told him.

Leonardo stilled, and Raphael wasn't sure if his brother was even breathing anymore. Finally he took a deep lungful of air and gave a curt nod of understanding. "Okay," he said. "Okay," he repeated as if needing to tell himself that what he was about to do was something he would be able to handle.

"Mikey," Leonardo said, his attention focussed upon the task at hand. "Roll Donny over, and make sure he's comfortable. Raph, you're coming with me."

Michelangelo, eyes wide and looking like a deer caught in a set of headlights, nodded slowly in response to Leonardo's order.

Leonardo latched onto Raphael's arm, pulling him towards the door, while Leonardo barked out a stern 'MIKEY!' over his shoulder in an effort to snap their baby brother out of his frozen state.

Michelangelo leapt up, depositing the laptop on the desk as Raphael was dragged from the room.

"Leo-"

"Tell me everything that April said, go slowly, don't leave anything out, and help me find everything that we need," Leonardo interrupted.

Raphael clamped his jaw shut before giving a stiff nod of understanding. They were not going to talk about 'what ifs' or about the possibility that they or the disease may kill Donatello. They had a task to do, and they were going to do it to the best of their abilities, and hope and pray that their abilities were good enough.

* * *

_**Leonardo** slowly walked into Donatello's room and frowned when he realized that Donatello was no longer in his bed._

_He spun around in a full circle, the walls warping slightly and losing some of their tangibility as his mind attempted to understand where Donatello could possibly have gone. _

_Quickly running from his brother's bedroom, he followed the sound of a power tool that was seemed to be coming from Donatello's lab._

_The brief hope that perhaps the past week and a half had been nothing but a horrible dream filtered through his mind. He felt relief fill him, fully expecting to find Donatello tinkering away in his lab, completely unaware of the horrible nightmare that Leonardo had experienced._

_He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. The sound of the heart monitor echoed ominously around the the large room; a makeshift screen stood before him, constructed from a white sheet and metal poles._

_Leonardo could see a shadowy figure moving behind the curtain, but couldn't tell who it was or what they were doing, other than leaning over a table to some sort._

_Carefully approaching the sheet, he reached out a trembling hard and grasped hold of the sheet, pulling it out of the way. _

_The white sheet flew back, revealing Michelangelo, his mouth and nostrils obstructed by the surgical mask he wore._

_"Leo, 'bout time you got here," Michelangelo said cheerfully, stepping back and revealing Donatello lying upon a cot, a sheet pulled up to his chin. "Here, put these on," Michelangelo said as he handed Leonardo a pair of surgical gloves._

_Leonardo took the gloves as Michelangelo hummed to himself, pulling on his own pair of gloves. _

_"Mikey, what are you doing?" Leonardo asked in confusion, realizing that Michelangelo would be the last one he would ever expect to find suiting up for surgery._

_"Well, we gotta fix Donny, right?" he asked as if the answer should be obvious._

_"I know, Mikey," he replied patiently. "But I-"_

_"Hold this," Michelangelo interrupted as he shoved a circular saw into his hands._

_Leonardo looked blankly down at the electrical saw with its circular, rotating blade. "Mikey, we need to do a spinal tap," he told his baby brother, not understanding what was going on._

_An image flashed before his eyes of Donatello lying on his bed, body turned towards the wall, the high pitched squeal of a drill bit boring into hard keratin reverberating around in his head._

_"It ain't his spine, Leo," Michelangelo said as he snatched the saw from Leonardo's unresisting hands. "We tried that and it didn't work. But I figured it out." _

_Leonardo blinked, processing his brother's words for a moment before frowning deeply. "We have to wait-" His words were drowned out by the high pitched whine of the saw._

_"IT'S HIS HEAD!" Michelangelo yelled madly above the sound of the saw, turning and lowering the blade of the saw towards Donatello's neck._

_"MIKEY!" he shrieked in horror, his hands reaching out to stop his baby brother before the blade could slice through Donatello's flesh._

_His heart leapt into his throat, terror coursing through him as the space between himself and his baby brother suddenly felt too great a distance to traverse as Michelangelo seemed to get further and further away from him, even as he tried to get closer._

_"NO!" he screamed as the blade of the saw bit into Donatello's skin, and through bone. Blood splattered up and across Michelangelo's face, His brother's manic grin freezing Leonardo's blood in his veins as he watched Michelangelo's deftly lift up Donatello's severed head like a prized trophy._

Leonardo's eyes shot open, a scream of terror sitting upon his lips ready to be released as his eyes darted frantically around the darkened room.

He slid forward in his seat, his fingers quickly checking the lethargic pulse at Donatello's throat.

"You okay, Leo?" Raphael asked him quietly.

Leonardo took a deep, steadying breath, trying to shake himself from his nightmare. He dragged his hands down his face and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"I'm good," he finally answered, his eyes never straying from Donatello's motionless form. They had performed the spinal tap, and over a day later, they were still waiting for the results. Leonardo knew that if Donatello was the one running the tests, then they would have had a result already. Unfortunately, Donatello was the one who was sick, and so their genius brother had to deal with the clumsy, unknowledgeable attempts by his siblings to figure out what they were doing.

Leonardo's eyes flicked back to the heart monitor.

It had bothered him that Donatello's heart rate had been too quick, but now, his brother's heart rate was much too slow, dipping alarmingly at times to the point where they waited with bated breath, convinced that his heart was just going to stop altogether.

"You think we paralyzed him?" Raphael asked, his voice soft, but strangely monotone, as if everything that had happened was just too much to for him to bear and so he had shut down emotionally.

Leonardo closed his eyes, dread and a nearly physical pain assaulting him. "I don't know," his words trembled as he opened his eyes, finally looking at Raphael who had taken up a watchful post leaning against Donatello's desk.

Raphael grunted in acknowledgement as Leonardo tried, but failed to stop his mind from wandering back to their clumsy, but finally successful spinal tap.

Leonardo had dragged Raphael to Donatello's lab, where they had rummaged through Donatello's medical supplies. He knew he needed a drill, which Raphael had found, along with some alcohol swabs. Leonardo's eyes had grazed the bottles and vials of pain medication and anesthetics knowing that he could not give Donatello any, because he would be too frightened of overdosing their brother and killing him. He turned his gaze instead to the rows of medical texts that lined their brother's lab and searched through them, looking for and finally finding detailed instructions on the proper way to perform a spinal tap.

Unfortunately for them, Donatello's spine lay on the other side of his carapace, which meant they needed to drill through the hard keratin and pray they didn't drill too deep, paralyzing him or killing him outright as they tried to save him.

The spinal tap could have gone better, but he supposed it also could have gone much, much worse. Donatello had survived it and they had managed to collect a sample in the syringe they had slid between his two vertebrae. Whether or not they had damaged Donatello's spine beyond repair was something they would have to discover later...If Donatello managed to survive his ordeal.

Leonardo glanced back over at Donatello. The fact that their amethyst masked brother hadn't woken up during the procedure or since, worried Leonardo more than he was willing to admit to either of his brothers. Raphael had commented on it, but Leonardo had assured Raphael and Michelangelo that Donatello was just very sick. However, Leonardo believed that there was a much more disturbing reason for their brother's unresponsive state; a reason he wasn't even willing to admit to himself; but the condition refused to be banished from his mind.

His heart constricted painfully in his chest at the belief that Donatello was currently in a coma, and at this moment, their only hope was in getting a positive result for meningitis.

After they had extracted the spinal fluid from Donatello's back, it had taken them hours to figure out how to use Donatello's high tech machinery to test the sample. The machine had processed the sample and hours later, they had a result. Donatello indeed had meningitis. Unfortunately, they still didn't know what _type_ of meningitis he had, and that was another test that the machine had begun running.

Michelangelo had been more helpful than Leonardo had expected, and their baby brother had planted himself in front of the printer, waiting for the results.

As if conjured up from mere thought into reality, Michelangelo suddenly burst into Donatello's room, his chest heaving with exertion, a white piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

Raphael stood ramrod straight as Michelangelo tried to regain his breath, waving the paper around like a white flag of surrender, which Raphael deftly snatched away from their baby brother's hand.

"It's fungal." Michelangelo gasped out. "Cryp...crypto..."

_"Cryptococcus gattii_," Raphael interrupted Michelangelo's stammering attempt at pronouncing the medical term from memory.

Leonardo slowly stood, his heart sliding from his throat to sit in the pit of his stomach. They now knew what was killing their brother.

"Okay," he began trying to get his thoughts in order. His eyes flew to Donatello's heart monitor as his heart rate and blood pressure plummeted. He waited for his heart rate to stabilize, but this time, it didn't and an alarm split the air.

"Leo!" Raphael's panicked voice managed to break through his momentarily petrified mind.

Leonardo rushed to Donatello's side, his hands pulling away the covers, staring at his brother's barely moving plastron as his mind struggled furiously trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.

The heart monitor suddenly stopped sounding it's alarm. For a heartbeat Leonardo was sure that his brother's heart had stopped and he prepared himself for the soul crushing sound of the flatline. Thankfully, Donatello's heart rate rose to an acceptable level again, and Leonardo felt stars dance before his eyes as relief flowed through him.

A strangled gasp sounded from the door and Leonardo nearly jumped out of his shell at the voice that was not either of his brothers'.

Leonardo's head snapped to the doorway, his legs nearly giving out beneath him as he felt his eyes well with tears.

"April," he exhaled, his voice hoarse and shaky with emotion.

April ignored him, her eyes focused solely upon Donatello.

"Oh, God." April rushed to Donatello's side, dropping a bag onto the floor as she fell to her knees, her hand reaching out and gently brushing across their brother's sweat drenched forehead. Her voice trembled as she spoke Donatello's name.

Another movement from the doorway caught his attention and Casey stood just outside the door. Raphael looked over at Casey and walked over to him, quietly talking to him in a hushed whisper.

April looked at Donatello as if she were unable to believe that Donatello was so sick. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and seemed to mentally shake herself before her eyes snapped open, focused upon the task at hand.

She turned her gaze to the heart monitor before quickly digging around in the bag she had dropped to the ground as she had rushed to Donatello's side.

She pulled out a small penlight, prying Donatello's eyes open and shining the light in his eyes before turning the light off.

"He's in a coma," April whispered softly, confirming Leonardo's suspicions. "I'd say he has a few hours left, maybe a little more."

Michelangelo let out a choked sob, while Raphael turned, punching the wall in anger as he let out a snarl of anger laced misery.

Leonardo reached out for Michelangelo, holding his baby brother tightly, his own vision darkening slightly around the edges as he tried to hold onto his sanity. "Wh-what do we do?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"You need to get him medicine, and the only place you will be able to get him anything strong enough to save him will be a hospital," April answered succinctly, her voice growing stronger as she focused on the situation.

She stood, walking to Donatello's desk and opening the laptop. Her fingers rapidly flew across the keys, her eyes scanning and reading whatever information she was gathering. Her hand reached out digging through a pile of papers, coming up with a pen and a piece of paper.

"Donatello needs Amphotericin B," April carefully explained. "The best would be the liquid given through an IV. He will need several doses, so grab as much as you can get your hands on. Mt. Sinai hospital is your best bet. Their drug supplies are located on the third floor. There is some medium level security, but knowing you guys, you won't have a problem slipping past the guards and the pharmacists. I have mapped out a route you can take, using the ventilation shafts and back stairwells. I'll send it to your phones."

Leonardo pulled away from Michelangelo and gave a nod of acknowledgement and deep thanks. He would have thanked her with his voice, but he knew he couldn't speak. If he spoke he might break, and Donatello needed him to focus more than ever.

Motioning with his head for Raphael to follow him, Leonardo stopped Michelangelo as he moved to follow. "You stay here with April, watch over him for us."

Michelangelo looked as if he was about to protest, eyes still swimming with tears that he quickly dashed away. Finally, Michelangelo nodded, knowing that if Donatello didn't make it, at least he wouldn't die without a brother by his side.

"Hurry," Michelangelo whispered hoarsely, his eyes pleading desperately for Leonardo not to fail.

Leonardo nodded in acknowledgement of his brother's silent plea.

"Come on, Case, you can drive, and you had better drive like a bat outta hell," Raphael growled.

Leonardo took one last look at Donatello's frighteningly still form, sending out a silent prayer that this would not be the last time that he saw Donatello alive, and turned away, following Raphael and Casey from the room.

* * *

**Raphael** leapt into the back of the van, Leonardo following close on his heels as he motioned for Casey to drive. They had managed to steal thirty bags of the drug that Donatello needed. They hadn't known how many to grab, so they had taken what they could manage to stuff into the duffel bag they had brought with them before slipping out of the hospital unseen.

He didn't like the fact that they had broken into a hospital and stolen from drugs from it, but he knew that in this case, they had no other choice.

Raphael clenched his teeth together so tightly in anger that he swore he could hear his jaw beginning to creak.

Being in the hospital had only brought home the realization that they were freaks of nature, completely on their own in a world full of humans who would only look upon them with fear and mistrust. The fact that they couldn't just take Donatello to the hospital ate away at him, only adding to his fury with the situation they found themselves in. And right now, it was easier to focus on any reason to be angry than acknowledge the bone crushing worry that danced around in the back of his mind.

"Casey?" Leonardo inquired softly.

Raphael turned his gaze upon his friend who was busy tearing through traffic, ignoring most of the rules of the road, and generally driving like a maniac.

Raphael held on as Casey took a turn especially sharp, nearly throwing himself and Leonardo into the opposite side of the van.

"April hasn't called," Casey informed them and he took another sharp corner. Casey looked over his shoulder at them. "No news is good news, right?" he asked encouragingly.

Raphael clenched his jaw together more tightly, praying that their friend was right.

Casey finally pulled into the garage of the lair, and neither he nor Leonardo waited for their friend to come to a complete stop before leaping from the back of the van and rushing the medicine up to April as fast as they were able to.

Heart beating frantically, Raphael watched as Leonardo handed over the clear bag of medicine to April, who had stood as soon as they had entered Donatello's bedroom.

April practically snatched the bag from Leonardo's grasp and rushed back to Donatello's side. She deftly hung the bag of antibiotics next to the saline drip. Grabbing a length of tubing she attached the bag to the IV line that was already in Donatello's arm.

They all watched the clear liquid slowly make its way down the opaque tubing and into their brother's arm. Raphael's eyes shot to Donatello's face, expecting for his brother to magically open his eyes; completely cured. He knew this would not actually happen, but some small part of him had secretly hoped that it would anyway.

"We will have to give him the medicine every twelve hours for the next two weeks," April informed them in a brisk voice that still shook with fear and worry. "But the next few hours are crucial. Hopefully the medicine will bring down the swelling of his brain, which should bring him out of his coma."

Raphael managed to grunt, while Leonardo gave a nod of his head. Michelangelo, who was seated in the chair next to Donatello's bed, didn't make any acknowledgement of April's words, his focus solely upon Donatello.

"Come on, Donny," Michelangelo whispered as he gave Donatello's hand a squeeze of encouragement.

Raphael began to pace around the small room, now even more crowded than it had been before the addition of April and Casey.

April looked at them over her shoulder. "You guys should get some rest, the medicine will take a while to start working, and all of you look like you are ready to drop," April suggested. "I'll watch over Donny."

Raphael gave another grunt, but had no intention of sleeping, not until he knew that Donatello was going to be okay.

Casey managed to pull Leonardo and Raphael from Donatello's bedroom a few hours later. They had finally driven April up the wall with their constant pacing and hovering. Only Michelangelo was allowed to stay and so Raphael and Leonardo had followed Casey into the living room.

Raphael sat on the couch, intent on watching some TV, but no matter how much he fought off the exhaustion that threatened to drag him into sleep, he was unable to stay awake for long before his lids slid shut, his world going blessedly dark.

At the sound of a panicked shout and the frantic alarm of the heart monitor, Raphael's eyes snapped open, his mind attempted to process what was going on as he leapt to his feet, stumbling after Leonardo who must have fallen asleep as well; judging by his slightly uncoordinated movements.

By the time they ran up the stairs and into Donatello's room, Raphael was wide awake, adrenalin pumping quickly through his veins as his awareness narrowed down to the pinpoint focus of his younger, purple masked brother, lying on the bed, April's voice and movements frantic.

Panic suddenly turned to horror as the heart monitor fell into a steady heart wrenching, soul destroying tone of the flatline.

"Come on, Donny, don't you dare do this to me!" April yelled as she began pumping Donatello's chest with her hands.

Raphael's vision suddenly became less focused, the movements of everyone around him nearly all in slow motion as they tried and tried to get Donatello's abused heart pumping again; the flatline filling the air with a stark finality that brought Raphael to his knees.

* * *

***eep* I am...so evil!**

**But I hope everyone enjoyed anyway! **

**One more chapter left! I hope everyone stays with this fic!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Alright, is everyone ready, have you braced yourselves?!**

**Last chapter for this fic!:D **

**Thank you to all of my readers and a special thank you to my reviewers: I love kittens too, tmntlover2013, AdrenalizeMe, ittle Soldier Mine, violet-bo, Bubblyshell22, kifanya, dondena, help, helfyrephoenix, SleepingSeeker, liltikewriter, Teen Titains Tmnt, and jaddis**

**A giant thank you to Amonraphoenix for beta reading this chapter for me!**

**And now, please enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 6

**Raphael** leaned his shoulder against the door frame of Donatello's lab, looking around the empty room.

There was a fine coating of dust covering all of the surfaces; the room dark, silent and unused.

It had been almost a three weeks since Donatello's heart had stopped beating, filling his bedroom with the high pitched whine of the heart monitor's flatline.

Recalling the horrific night, Raphael remembered as he had watched the frantic motions of his family as they had buzzed around Donatello, like busy bees in a hive, trying desperately to get Donatello's heart beating again, but to no avail.

He had fallen to his knees, unable to believe that they hadn't administered the medicine in time to prevent Donatello's death. Tears had welled up in his eyes as he let out a keening wail of anguish and despair.

Michelangelo had stumbled back, Leonardo managing to catch their baby brother before he fell to the ground in shocked disbelief.

"B-but...we gave him the medicine," Michelangelo had whispered in bewildered anguish. "It should have worked."

Leonardo clutched Michelangelo to his chest more tightly. "I know, Mikey. But...but we were too late," he finished miserably, his voice breaking slightly as his eyes closed tightly in grief.

April had sworn and rushed from the room, pushing Casey out of the way as she had ran, leaving them alone with Donatello's body, lying ever so still and peaceful upon his bed.

Raphael stared at Donatello's motionless form as Michelangelo sobbed into Leonardo's shoulder. Anger, hot and full of unfathomable vitriol burned through his veins. He struggled to his feet and stalked towards the bed, his furious gaze raking Donatello's body.

"You BASTARD!" he roared. "You were supposed to get better! You weren't supposed to DIE!" He grabbed Donatello by his shoulders, hauling him up slightly, his brother's head lolling limply to the side.

"Raph!" Leonardo shouted at him, leaping up and trying to haul him backwards, but he shoved his oldest brother back with one hand, still clutching Donatello's lifeless body with the other. He reached back and clutched at Donatello again with both hands. He gave Donatello a slight shake, causing Donatello's head to flop back and forth bonelessly.

"We got you the medicine, so what the hell is wrong with you?!" Raphael continued to berate his genius brother for daring to die on them. "You selfish asshole," Raphael whispered miserably, his voice losing all of its heat as the reality of Donatello's death began to permeate his brain.

"Please…Please, Donny," his voice broke as he clutched Donatello to his chest. "Please. You can't be dead, you can't be." He felt angry, grief filled tears threaten to spill over as Donatello remained silent, still, and unresponsive to his words. "If you die on me, I swear, I will HATE you forever," he snarled, giving Donatello's body a fierce shake.

"Raph," Leonardo's miserable voice pleaded.

"Bro," Casey whispered gently as Leonardo murmured hushed, comforting words to Michelangelo.

"Raph! Put Donny back down on his bed and MOVE!" April had yelled at him, trying to push him out of the way.

Raphael pulled his teeth back in a feral growl, daring April to try to pull Donatello from his arms.

"I swear to God, Raphael, that I will use this defibrillator on you if you don't move your ass out of the way RIGHT NOW!" April shoved him hard, her words seeming to penetrate through the cloud of grief that had consumed him.

Raphael reverently lay Donatello back down on the bed, hastily moving out of the way as April tore into the black bag she hastily slammed down on the night table.

She yanked the modified paddles from the bag, cranking the dial, the high pitched whine of the defibrillator drowning out the monotonous blare of the flatline.

"Clear!" she yelled taking the needles and slamming them through their brother's plastron so the charge would actually make it to their brother's heart.

Donatello's body had leapt from the table, the heart monitor pausing before their brother's body hit the bed, the needles pulling free.

Raphael's eyes were trained on the monitor, the green line having leapt up briefly before slipping back down into an unmoving straight line.

"Don't you dare do this to me, Donatello! Now try harder!" April yelled, the machine charging again. "Please, you have to fight!" she begged. "Clear!" She slammed the needles in again.

Donatello's body shot off the bed again before slamming limply back down. Raphael glared at the heart monitor daring it to remain nothing but a solid green line, but it continued to mocked him.

"April?" Leonardo asked in a shaky voice.

April had looked at them with tear filled eyes, shaking her head back and forth in misery.

Raphael had looked down at his brother again, bitter, grief welling up inside him as he reached out, grabbing the needles from April's unresisting grip. He leaned forward the sound of the charging filling the room again. "If you don't get your ass back here and take a breath, I'm gonna to jam these things into your body until you do. So unless you want me to keep makin' your body jump off this table like a landed trout, you had better get the hell back here and do something about it!" he threatened, punctuating his promise by leaning back and slamming the needles through his brother's abused plastron.

Raphael did not focus upon his brother's body as the electricity coursed through it, causing it to arch off the table. Instead he willed the taunting green line to move, to spike, to blip, to do anything other than remain perfectly, tauntingly flat.

The line jumped once before settling back; no movement, just the brutal, unfeeling, continuous line.

Raphael had looked at the line in disbelief, shaking his head back in forth in denial. Michelangelo's choked sobs joined with April's tearful cry of grief...

"Raph, what are you doing?" Leonardo's voice inquired softly from over his shoulder, forcefully dragging his mind from the nightmare of the past and slamming it back into the present.

"I-" his voice cracked and he cleared his throat pushing away the tightness that clutched at his heart as the vivid memories tore through his mind. "I was just thinking that Donny's lab seems so quiet," he replied.

Raphael looked over his shoulder at his older brother and watched as Leonardo's face fell into grim lines.

He turned his attention back to the lab, walking slowly inside and running a finger through the dust that had accumulated on Donatello's work bench.

His fingers traced the outline of where Donatello's last project had rested. Raphael believed it had been a toaster that Donatello had dismantled and was turning into something insane, like a trans-dimensional teleportation device, or a slow cooker…or he was just fixing the damn thing. Raphael couldn't even remember because he had never cared what it was that Donatello was working on. If it hadn't involved any new toys for him to play with or to make their enemies pay, he hadn't paid any attention to what his brother did in his lab. He had always thought that his brother would be there; never thinking that one day, Donatello may not be around anymore.

The thought that he would never be able to talk, see, or even touch him again never even crossed his mind, and that filled him with a regret that he would live with for the rest of his life.

Raphael stepped away from the bench, his arm falling heavily back to his side as he walked over to a supply closet, Leonardo following close behind him.

Pausing, his hand hovering over the handle for a moment, he turned it, quickly throwing the door wide open.

Donatello sat in the corner, his arms wrapped around the toaster in a possessive, almost protective manner.

Their younger brother gave out a startled squeak as Raphael glared down at him.

"Donny, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice unusually calm, even, and containing only the faintest hint of anger. "You're supposed to be resting in bed, remember?"

Raphael had stared so hard at the unmoving green line that his vision had become blurred, or maybe it was the tears of grief that had filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks as he reluctantly accepted the fact that Donatello was gone. He had felt as if a dark, black hole of despair had opened up beneath his feet, swallowing him whole and numbing him to everyone and everything around him. So much so, that it had taken a few moments for him to realize that there was a new noise filling the room, just barely able to be heard over the cries of joy and shock.

He had stared dumbly at the heart monitor, his mind unable to understand how the straight, mocking, unwavering green line came to be moving and spiking with a constant rhythm that stopped his own shocked heart within his chest.

Staring down at the needles that were still clutched in his numb hands, he finally opened his white knuckled grip so that they could drop them unheeded to the ground. He fell forward, gently gathering Donatello's body into his arms and giving him a tearful, crushing hug, burying his beak into the crook of his genius brother's neck.

Raphael had known at that moment that Donatello wasn't out of the woods yet, but at least he was alive, and that gave them all hope that Donatello would have the strength to pull through; which brought them back to finding Donatello hiding in his supply closet in his lab.

Glaring down at his younger brother, he didn't give into his urge to smile at his younger brother's attempt at disobedience, but rather frowned more fiercely. "I'll ask you one more time, Donny. What the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked dangerously.

"I need to do_ something_," Donatello complained. "I've been stuck on the couch in the living room for almost seven weeks and-"

"Yeah, but in case you forgot, you've_ only_ been on the couch for six weeks recoverin' from tryin' to die on us, so don't give me that crap," Raphael interrupted with a snarl.

"Fine. I've spent six weeks on that couch, and I can actually feel my brain cells dying," Donatello corrected with a huff of irritation placing the toaster in his lap and moving his wheelchair forward.

It had taken nearly four days for Donatello's fever to break and for him to wake up from his coma, but when he had, Raphael had never felt so happy in his life. Unfortunately they had discovered that Donatello still had no feeling below his waist. Donatello had informed them that the swelling in his brain and spinal column should have gone down, allowing him to move his legs again. Leonardo had then had to inform Donatello that he had performed a spinal tap to confirm that Donatello did indeed have meningitis. Donatello had froze, his face going pale as they all came to the realization that Donatello's life had been saved, but it had been at the cost of his mobility. They had been horrified, Leonardo most of all, because he was the one who had actually performed the spinal tap and paralyzed their brother.

They had then moved Donatello onto the main floor, since it was easier to look after him from there. Donatello had tried to remain positive, he was slowly getting better and the hole that had been drilled in his carapace was healing, but they could all see how badly the fact that he would never walk again tore at him. There were moments when Donatello didn't think that they were watching him, that they had witnessed Donatello curling into himself as much as he could, and crying. Other times Donatello would become moody and depressed before managing to pull himself out of it.

Leonardo of course was consumed by culpability, they all were, but Raphael could see that the guilt was eating Leonardo up inside. Leonardo had begun to avoid Donatello, but only in spurts. It was as if he believed that Donatello should hate him, therefore Leonardo should stay away so that Donatello was not constantly confronted by the brother who had paralyzed him. But then it was like Leonardo would change his mind, waiting on Donatello hand and foot as penance for his mistake.

Finally, Raphael had dragged Leonardo aside and threatened to beat the crap out of him if he didn't calm down and just act normally. Raphael had then pointed out that Donatello would never blame Leonardo for what had happened, and that his behaviour was making Donatello feel even worse than he already did.

Leonardo had been shocked at first by his words, but had actually taken them to heart, and beginning to act more normally around Donatello.

And then, about a week ago, Donatello had woken up in the morning and discovered that he was able to move his toes a little bit. Ever so slowly Donatello had begun to gain some feeling and mobility back in his legs. The relief they had all felt had been profound. As soon as Donatello had realized that he would be able to walk again, he began pushing himself, tiring himself out, and in general, being a bad patient and a pain in their ass. But truthfully, Raphael couldn't be happier.

"Suck it up, Genius," Raphael growled. "You gotta stay on the couch, and now because you didn't, you're gonna regret it," Raphael told his brother, stepping back so that Leonardo could step forward.

Donatello momentarily tensed, but his shoulders drooped with relief as Leonardo walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Donny." he began, his voice stern and serious. "You aren't allowed off the couch for at least another few days, April's orders."

Donatello blew out another irritated huff of air. "I know, Leo," he grumbled. "But it's only the toaster. I can tinker with it in the living room. You won't even know I'm doing it. Please," he begged.

Leonardo looked over his shoulder at Raphael who gave a slight, almost imperceptible negative shake of his head.

Leonardo gave a nod of understanding before turning his attention back to Donatello. "Donny," Leonardo began gently. "You have had us worried half to death for almost two months. We only want you to get better, and April told you no tinkering and no inventions. You are supposed to let your brain heal, which means rest and taking it easy."

"Leo, it's a toaster," Donatello said in a monotone voice.

"We love you, and we are doing this for your own good," Leonardo insisted, giving Donatello's shoulder a comforting squeeze before stepping away.

"Leo, no. Leo, please!" Donatello begged, but a steely glint of resolve settled into their oldest brother's eyes, causing Donatello's to seek out another ally. "Raph?" he pleaded, his voice raising an octave.

Raphael allowed his face to break out into a wide grin. "Payback's a bitch, Donny," he stated glibly. "Maybe next time you'll think before ignorin' the fact that you were sick, and...Oh yeah… For tryin' to die on us."

Donatello flinched slightly, but picked up the toaster, clutching it closer to his chest, almost as if it would shield him from what was about to come. "Come on, guys, please. I swear I will tell you if I have even the tiniest sniffle. I'll stay on the couch, I promise, just please don't-"

"Mikey!" Raphael shouted over his shoulder, cutting off Donatello's words. "We found Donny!"

Donatello's head fell forward in defeat before rising up, eyes narrowed dangerously. "The next time you are sick, Raph, I'm going to-" He never got a chance to finish his threat as Michelangelo rushed into the lab, stumbling slightly in his haste to get into the closet.

Michelangelo's eyes were filled with worry that changed to relief once his gaze settled upon their genius brother.

Because Leonardo had been acting so squirrely, and Raphael was horrible when it came to taking care of anyone, Donatello's primary care had fallen upon Michelangelo's shoulders. Raphael had occasionally helped with the heavy lifting and Leonardo had helped out every now and then when he wasn't being an idiot, but he and Leonardo had still felt guilty about Michelangelo taking on such a heavy burden by himself. That was until they had realized that Michelangelo was not only good at it, but_ liked_ it.

After a while, Raphael and Leonardo had sat back and watched as their baby brother mother henned Donatello to death. To Raphael, this was of course a simple kind of payback for all of the badgering and mother henning that Donatello had always done to them over the years when they had been either sick or injured.

"Donny, you told me you wanted to sleep and that's why you wanted me to stop reading you issue forty six of the Silver Sentry's Final Battle," Michelangelo's voice wavered with hurt and confusion. "So...so if you…if you didn't want to listen you could have just told me," Michelangelo stammered his shoulders drooped in dejection as his whole demeanour gave the impression of a lost puppy who somebody had just kicked.

Donatello, unable to go up against the overwhelming guilt produced by such a display, quietly assured Michelangelo that he, 'Of course wanted to hear how the Silver Sentry managed to foil the evil Dr. Neuron's sinister plans.'

"Really?" Michelangelo asked in a small, hopeful voice.

Donatello looked as if he was somehow biting his tongue as he lied to Michelangelo's face. "Really," he agreed with a nod.

Michelangelo's features lit up like it was Christmas, New Years and Halloween all in the same day.

Donatello blinked at the intensity of the white toothed grin Michelangelo gave him. "Great! We only have twenty-six more issues to go until that happens, not to mention the fifty-two that come afterwards," Michelangelo gushed with excitement.

Donatello threw them a look of desperate pleading, mouthing the words 'help me' as Michelangelo grabbed the handles of Donatello's wheelchair and began to roll him from the room.

Raphael only grinned more broadly as Michelangelo continued, "And then after that there is a monster movie marathon, and then tomorrow we can play Defender 4, which just came out and I have been dying to play. And then..."

Reaching out, Raphael snagged the toaster as Donatello rolled past. Donatello looked up and gave them both a death glare that promised retribution. Raphael gave Donatello a smug grin and waved bye-bye, watching as his brothers disappeared from sight.

"Donny is never going to forgive us for this," Leonardo warned.

Raphael gave a smirk. "I know. But hey, April said Donny wasn't allowed to think too hard. There is nothing more mind-numbing than having to hang around with Mikey 24/7," he said with a chuckle. "And I'm pretty sure Mikey is loving the fact Donny is basically a captive audience."

Leonardo grinned and nodded in agreement.

Raphael walked from the supply closet, placing the toaster back on Donatello's work bench in the exact spot where it had been taken from.

He stood back, looking at the toaster. He honestly didn't care what form of payback Donatello was planning on enacting upon him, because nothing his amethyst-masked brother could ever do to him would be as painful as nearly losing him; not even listening to seventy plus issues of the Silver Sentry.

Raphael took one last look at the toaster and followed Leonardo from the room.

"We should really dust in there," Leonardo observed thoughtfully.

"Yeah, we should," Raphael agreed, knowing that hell would freeze over before any one of them would.

Raphael paused, causing Leonardo to look over his shoulder in confusion and halt his progress as well. "Donny's out of the woods, right?" Raphael asked softly.

"Yeah," Leonardo nodded, relief filling his dark brown eyes.

Raphael nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, for…you know…being an ass and blaming you for Donny getting sick and sayin' all that bad stuff to you," he apologized gruffly.

Leonardo's eye ridges rose in surprise. "I-"

"Don't say nothin', Leo," he interrupted. "Just…we're good, right?"

Leonardo turned to face him. "Yeah, Raph, we're good."

Raphael gave a firm nod of his head, walking up to and then past his cerulean-blue masked brother."Sparing match?" he asked as he passed.

Leonardo grinned. "Sure."

"I'm gonna kick your ass," Raphael taunted.

"You can try, Raph. You can try," Leonardo replied as Raphael smiled, thankful that his brothers and his friends were all safe and in his life.

* * *

**I hope you all have enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!:D**


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